Scorpius Malfoy and the Night of Gryffindor Mischief
by Lily-lamaire
Summary: Scorpius wasn't stupid - well his sense of humour could use some improvement according to Ethan and everyone he met - but he definitely wasn't stupid. So how exactly did he end up with so many problems and so little solutions? Between Albus trying to communicate with him telepathically, a maniac on the loose and a bunch of people he pissed off in various ways, well, he's lost.
1. On a train wreck to Hogwarts

War was a terrible thing in a million different ways. It was a pestilence, a bringer of death and misery. It was a canon ball, destroying all in its path. It was a nightmare, turning people against each other in fear and hatred. But what's more was that is was a wound, one that scarred and never truly disappeared. People often jokingly said that there was a thin line between hatred and love and in a sick, twisted way, war could easily be compared to the aftermath of a love affair. It was an act after which no matter how well the two parties reconciled and forgave, the trust between them could never be whole again.

That one, nagging memory of betrayal would always be there.

The war against Voldemort had been over for seventeen years already and yet it could still not be made History. History was when facts were being studied but any claims to objectivity were lost only two decades after the horror. The wizarding world was not ready for closure yet; its children could not be spared of their parents' conflict yet.

It was almost funny how so many tried to show their loyalty to the 'light side' when so little had stood up against the dark during the war. Perhaps the former was a direct consequence of the latter. Perhaps people were so terrified of being associated to a mass murderer and ancient prejudice when they hadn't actively fought them that they felt the need to prove themselves by violently rejecting anything remotely dark.

They had to be white. Everything had to be white or be painted black and ejected from society.

The world had lost its colours.

"Blue would suit you."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow at his friend's words. They had been seating in a comfortable compartment of the Hogwarts Express for a good forty minutes and neither had spoken a word yet. Only the deaf vibration of the train running along its tracks filled the silence. Scorpius had been too busy looking out the window, taking in the blur of the landscape with wonder while Ethan had never been one to talk much. The latter was, however, intensely staring at his friend, as if trying to picture him as a vegetable or something.

"Is that what you're betting on?" Scorpius asked, removing his elbow from the windowsill and turning to face Ethan directly. Ethan was quite the unnerving boy when one met his eyes. He was a bit tan with hedgehog black hair and a small build but his eyes, narrow and black like the bottom of Voldemort's soul had been, pierced their target like curses in a duel. That was if one didn't know Ethan of course. Scorpius was more than accustomed of being at the end of his friend's analysing glare.

He knew the boy wouldn't hurt him. Not that he was incapable of doing so, or that his heart was too soft for that; Scorpius simply knew it was too much effort for him.

"Who says I'm betting on anything?" Ethan replied, tilting his head innocently.

"You're _always_ betting on something, Rosier." Scorpius reminded him with a knowing smirk, "Your gambling habit will be the _ruin_ of you, you just can _knut_ see it."

Ethan raised his hands in surrender, "Alright, I _am_ betting on you, _oh great Seer_." He admitted with no large amount of guilt, "But not on Racenclaw. That's Coodles. I was thinking Gryffindor. Your grandmother put money on Hufflepuff. Also that was a terrible pun, even by your standards, go sit in a corner."

"Huh." Scorpius said, surprised, "With how much I look like father, I would have thought at least one of you would have betted on Slytherin."

And look like his father he did. Save for smoother features, brighter eyes and messier hair, Scorpius Malfoy was a tiny clone of Draco Malfoy. He could even get full grown wizards to cower away or glare at him by just being there, courtesy of his father's reputation. Scorpius sometimes even doubted his mother contributed to his creation but that led to a train of thought the boy would rather not think about so he usually left that question there.

But that was all on a physical viewpoint. Morally, Scorpius was much more flighty, much harder to pin down. He was overall very balanced when it came to curiosity, cunning, courage or camaraderie.

"I'm sure your father or your grandfather might have," Ethan shrugged indifferently, "But we didn't exactly bring them in on the bet."

"Good call." Scorpius snorted.

"Speaking of which, what are you going to do about them?"

Scorpius hesitated before answering, "Grandmother thought it would be best to lie to grandfather if I were to end up anywhere other than Slytherin. We don't know if he would actually do anything but you know, playing it safe is probably best. That being said, I'll need to borrow one of your ties or something during break to plant evidence."

Ethan winced, "That bad?"

"I wouldn't put it past him to sniff around." Scorpius grimaced, "He's been getting worst and while I know he loves us to _bites_ \- get it? Bites? Sniff? ("I will skin you Malfoy.") Right. While I know he loves us to bits, I can't deny that he's…" the blond boy trailed off.

"A bit paranoid?" Ethan suggested.

"I was going more for a complete nutcase but sure, paranoid."

"What about Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't think there's any reason to hide anything from him." Scorpius frowned, "He doesn't seem like the type to fixate on the whole loyalty to Slytherin thing." He paused, "Not that I would know."

"Yeah," Ethan agreed, "It _is_ quite hard to tell with your father."

"How about you?" Scorpius returned, "Is your family scared you might be a Hufflepuff deep down?"

"If anyone out-Slytherins me in our year, I will join the choir." Ethan deadpanned, "Mother has already given me six pairs of green and silver socks."

"Yeah I'd be pretty surprised too if you didn't get in Slytherin." Scorpius smiled, "Try not to swindle your housemates too much."

"No promises."

"Can't say I didn't try."

"Already playing the hero, Malfoy?" Ethan smirked, "For the sake of my wallet, you'd better make it into Griffin-"

"Did you hear that?" Scorpius suddenly asked, standing up abruptly.

"Hear what?" Ethan asked but no sooner did the question leave his throat, a small explosion was heard from somewhere on the train.

"That."

"Probably just idiots playing a game of exploding snap with a twist." Ethan shrugged, taking a book from his bag and plopping it on his knees. Scorpius deflated and moved to sit again. However, noticing Ethan was looking at him weirdly, he stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

"What are you doing?" Ethan asked him.

"Not staring at my friend like he has grown an extra head in the last five minutes, that's for sure." Scorpius replied, "I was going to resume my looking out the window routine."

"Shouldn't you be checking on that explosion?"

"You just said it was probably nothing."

"That's not very proactive of you." Ethan remarked, "If you want to make it to Gryffindor you might want to start acting like one."

"I don't particularly care about being in Gryffindor." Scorpius deadpanned.

"No, but I do." Ethan told him sternly, "And I'm your only friend. So go be stupidly reckless."

"I'm pretty sure 'stupidly reckless' is not how-"

"Go."

And so Scorpius went, braving the corridors of the Hogwarts Express alone. He hadn't expected anything more from Ethan though, the boy had always been a lazy git with great distaste for drama and people in general. Still, it wouldn't have hurt to have company other than the mistrusting glares of other students.

Well, it did give him time to think.

He wasn't too worried about the whole House system at Hogwarts. In fact, if he had, he would have been a lot more pissed off at the whole 'let's push Malfoy into Gryffindor for kicks' thing Ethan had going on. The nerve of that boy! A stupid bet wasn't exactly the best way to decide on something that was going to define Scorpius's next seven years, even if Ethan probably knew him best. But Scorpius wasn't pissed at all. He knew Ethan and he knew himself - their friendship had always been pretty whimsical. To be honest, he was more worried about that fact that Ethan was a Slytherin through and through and that he most certainly was not.

It wasn't easy for a Malfoy to make friends these days.

Scorpius had spent a lot of his time in the Manor alone. He knew he didn't _need_ friends to function but he didn't want to have to look over his shoulder for seven years either. Scorpius was a boy who needed a calm environment and peaceful surroundings and it didn't take a genius to know there were going to be people out for his blood at Hogwarts. The Malfoys had been targeted in the past, after all.

"Oof!"

Scorpius fell back on the floor as someone bumped into him. It was a small, chubby boy with dark skin and a cloud of black hair on his head. He wore big circular glasses that tilted on top of his button nose and his clothes were far too big for him. The boy corrected his glasses, only for them to tilt again. If anyone looked clumsy and lost, it was him.

But a spark of recognition ran through his eyes as he saw Scorpius.

"Robin?" Scorpius grinned as he stood up again, remembering the boy he had met on his way to Diagon Alley a few weeks before. Him and his muggle mother had had no idea how to get there, having been unaware of anything magically related before Robin had received his Hogwarts letter.

Scorpius and Ethan had accompanied them through the list of school supplies, getting their own at the same time. They had hit it off pretty well, even if they hadn't spoken since.

Robin's mother, Sasha Thompson, had been an especially interesting woman. She was a librarian and had been simply appalled upon learning Scorpius had never read any muggle literature. The young Malfoy could still remember her shoving a book from her purse to his arms like it was a matter of life and death. She was a sunny person and there was really no other way to put it.

Sunny people were rare in the world of purebloods and old traditions. It was a welcome addition.

"Scorp - er -" The boy stammered, clearly seeing the hand Scorpius was offering to help him stand. Scorpius frowned, Robin hadn't forgotten his name - he was just hesitant about _saying_ it. True to his deduction, Robin pretended not to notice his hand and stood up on his own.

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked, before the answer hit him. Robin wasn't alright. He was _scared_. Of him. He could see it in the way the boy wouldn't meet his eyes and how he flinched when Scorpius stepped closer.

"I - I just -" The boy stuttered, "I t-told some third years that we met a-and they said that - there - er - There was a war?"

Scorpius's heart sank. The war. Of course. It was always the bloody war. Robin looked up hesitantly, worry clearly clouding his eyes. Scorpius could tell he wanted him to deny it.

"They said that your dad did - _things_. To - To people like _me_."

Scorpius knew exactly what kind of _things_ those third years were alluding to. Kidnapping, killing, _torturing_ \- like a cat who wasn't even hungry with a baby bird who couldn't even fly. Even if he hadn't known that, Robin looking positively sick was enough to venture an accurate guess. It was no wonder Robin had been so opened to them in Diagon Alley. He hadn't known back then. He knew now.

"Is it true?"

Three words. Three small words spoken without a stutter.

For once Scorpius had been able to make a friend who wasn't just another bored kid at fancy dinner parties. Of course the friendship was bound to be short lived. He was a Malfoy - he wasn't allowed to be happy and surrounded by people who didn't want to murder him. It was a golden law in this new post-war world.

But the truth was, his father _had_ committed all those crimes, by proxy if not personally. The Malfoys had been on the wrong side of the war. They had made mistakes upon mistakes under an illusion cast on them from their birth on. It was all true and denying it was like denying the repercussions of their past actions. Crimes were punished and the Malfoys' punishment was that of a name dragged through the dirt and into the sewers.

Scorpius met his amber eyes.

He sighed. "Yes."

Any colour that was left on Robin's face drained immediately and Scorpius suddenly felt old and tired, even if he was only an eleven year old boy about to start Hogwarts. It was unfair.

The dark skinned boy shuffled awkwardly on his feet before bolting away. Scorpius didn't even try to go after him. What could he say? Sorry that my family made muggleborn hunting a sport? Sorry about the small genocide we may have encouraged? I swear I won't lock you up and carve insults into your skin?

Scorpius shook his head, glad that all the students were in their own compartment or too far up or down the train to have witnessed the scene.

Only he was wrong. He wasn't alone. Scorpius startled when he raised his eyes to see emerald green ones staring at him. There was another boy in the corridor, a short, thin, first year looking at him with emotions Scorpius couldn't read. He had messy black hair and thick eyebrows, contrasting greatly with his clear, elegant gaze. When had he gotten there?

Scorpius wasn't kidding when he thought the boy's eyes were _emerald_ green. It was almost unnatural how crystalline they shone. There were hundreds of things Scorpius could compare them to; but none them seemed to fit exactly. Luminescent water was too fluid, hard candy not magical enough, soft drinks too crude, jewellery not poetic enough…

The young Malfoy caught himself staring. Of course Scorpius knew who the boy was; it was hard not to recognise Albus Potter in the same way it was hard not to recognise Scorpius Malfoy. He was only eleven and already his face had been captured in gossip magazines and amplified biographies of his father.

He would have thought the young Potter would have held more hatred in his eyes, or pity. But there was none of that. Even after having witnessed the short encounter between Robin and Scorpius, Albus Potter seemed to be concerned about something else entirely, something that was hidden deep in Scorpius's soul, judging by the way his eyes were boring into his.

Scorpius saw Albus Potter's eyes widen as the boy realised Scorpius had seen him stare but like the latter, Albus didn't tear his gaze away. There was a question in the air, one Scorpius couldn't quite understand. The blond couldn't help but think the boy in front of him looked somewhat desperate. He _wanted_ to answer him, to satisfy his curiosity, only he didn't know _how_.

An explosion broke of their improvised staring contest, both of their necks snapping towards the source of the noise.

Considering the blue smoke coming from one of the compartments, said source wasn't very far.

With a last glance at each other and not even a slight nod, the two boys rushed to the crime scene.

The blue smoke was spreading strangely from the open door of the compartment. Instead of rising like most vapours, it lingered close to the ground ominously like melting ice.

"POTTER!" A shrill voice from inside the compartment shrieked.

Instinctively, Scorpius turned to look at Albus who had finally caught up with him and stopped right in front of where the blue smoke reached. The boy looked genuinely confused and frankly a bit afraid. Couldn't blame him.

A girl Scorpius recognised to be Patricia Selwyn stormed out of the compartment, sliding its door close with a huge slam behind her. She had long, straight light brown hair that matched her skin and dark mocha eyes that looked ready to pop from their sockets and strangle someone themselves. She wasn't wearing her Hogwarts robes yet - no one was - but her expensive wizard robes looked similar.

"Potter." She growled, eyes landing on Albus who squeaked. "You."

The girl pulled out her wand faster than you could say 'snitch' and pointed it threateningly at his throat. Albus stepped back until his back hit the window of the train.

"You."

"… Me?" Albus asked timidly, his eyes looking straight at Patricia's, much to Scorpius's surprise. The younger boy wasn't scared of her, he realised, but of their conflict.

"Undo it."

Scorpius frowned. He knew Patricia Selwyn from one of the many events high class members of the pureblood community liked to organise to 'keep up tradition' (code work for networking and gloating). These gatherings were looked down upon by the general population and often put under heavy surveillance but it remained that old families were part of the British wizarding culture and the Ministry respected that.

The etiquette during these events was much more formal than the Hogwarts Express of course, but Scorpius couldn't help but think that Patricia Selwyn had not shown such a fiery temper. In fact, her parents had been proud to say that their daughter was a perfect angel and Scorpius remembered Patricia had lived up to those words when she had offered to help an old wizard who had spilled his wheetwine.

Even the chauvinistic comments of some hadn't tickled her temper.

"Undo what?"

"Do not play coy with me, Potter," she snarled, "You know very well what you did."

"I didn't do anything!" Albus frantically denied. "I swear!"

Patricia recoiled, confusion suddenly marring her features, "Wha…?" She took a few steps back, reassessing the boy in front of her as the latter sagged in relief.

"Who -?"

"Torturing first years now, _Pat_?"

Albus, Patricia and Scorpius turned to see two heads popping out from a neighbouring compartment, mischievous smiles covering a third of each. The tallest one was a slim ginger with a dark complexion. His eyes were warm and brown but not as welcoming as they could be. His friend, slightly smaller than him, radiated cockiness. He had Albus Potter's looks with lighter hair, darker eyes and sharper features. Kind of like an elf or a pixie, Scorpius thought to himself.

"Potter." Patricia grimaced, forgetting Albus completely and confirming Scorpius's suspicions. "Weasley."

"Hello Patty." The red head smiled, swinging out of the compartment like a drunk giraffe, "How was your break?"

"Undo the spell." Patricia ordered, her eye twitching at the pet names the two boys were using.

"I don't know…" James Potter hesitated, tapping his finger on his chin, "You were being awfully mean to my brother and all…"

"And you didn't say please." The Weasley boy added.

"Please?!" Patricia fumed, her face going red, "You want me to say _PLEASE? HOW ABOUT I SHOW YOU A NICE CURSE AND SEE HOW YOU LIKE THAT INSTEAD?_ "

"Merlin! So violent!" the Weasley boy despaired, shaking his head ruefully.

"Girls these days." James Potter sighed dramatically, "No elegance whatsoever."

Patricia didn't even deign comment on their words. She started walking towards them with all the confidence of her blood status as well as a pretty heavy killing intent. Scorpius could practically see a cloud of frustration and rage hovering around her. He had no doubt that if she was coming straight for him, Scorpius would be running the other way. He almost pitied the two boys. Almost. From what he was seeing, he didn't like them much.

Albus looked unsure what to do. He wasn't moving to stop Patricia like Scorpius would have thought, but he still looked positively worried about his brother and cousin. There was conflict in his whole demeanour.

James Potter and the Weasley boy were much more sure of themselves. They had taken a few steps back only to crouch in defensive position. James was twirling his wand in his hand mockingly, as if to show he wasn't taking her seriously. The glint his eyes spoke otherwise however; his chin was lowered and his mind focused on Patricia's next move.

Scorpius was starting to understand why Ethan avoided drama. There was no way this was ending well. Whatever relation existed between the three second years, it wasn't pygmy-puff friendship.

"Stupefy!" Patricia cried as she flicked her wrist expertly. A shot of red light erupted from her wand, heading straight for James Potter who ducked to the side.

"Petrificus Totalus!" The Weasley boy returned.

"Protego!"

Scorpius watched the duel - triel? tri-duel? - the fight with amazement. The spells casted were not particularly rare - all educated wizards knew them - but that was exactly it. _Educated_ wizards knew them. As far as the young Malfoy knew, Patricia Selwyn and James Potter were only in second year and the shield charm wasn't supposed to be taught until fourth year. Plus, their reflexes and the precision of their spells were remarkable.

"Impedimenta!"

"Baubillious! Stupefy!"

Patricia was much more aggressive in her duelling style than the two boys. She cast spells in quick succession and never missed a beat. James and the Weasley boy on the other hand, were more on the defensive. They favoured dodging to shields and unpredictability to try and throw her off but from the looks of it, she was capable of taking on both of them. All three were getting more and more creative with time.

Luckily, most of their spells only had effects on people which left the train with little damage other than puddles and tiny scorch marks. It was a wonder though, how they managed such a spectacular duel in such a narrow corridor. It sure made it hard for Scorpius and Albus to really see everything that was going on, with Patricia's back blocking their view.

"Confundo! Aguamenti!"

"Lumos maxima!"

Upon hearing the spell, Scorpius knew immediately what James Potter was plotting but found little time to do anything about it. A blinding light engulfed the corridor, tearing a scream from Patricia as her eyes were suddenly saturated with light. Albus and Scorpius were protected from the spell by the shadow of the older girl but the latter had taken the full brunt of it.

She staggered back slightly, furiously rubbing her eyes brimmed with tears.

"You son of a-"

Scorpius noticed the two boys sharing a conspiratorial smirk and the ginger raised his wand once more, ready to jinx Patricia while she was temporarily out of commission.

Well, two against one wasn't exactly fair. Plus, James Potter and Weasley boy 1 were definitely arses.

Scorpius reached within him, feeling that pool of magic that was inside every wizard and witch and focused it in his wand. He didn't really know any spells yet - like every other first year, he knew some of their names, some of their incantations but the underage restriction meant that he had never cast any of them. But from what he had seen, spells like the ones they used most dissolved when they hit a surface that wasn't human. Obviously, clothes weren't enough but there was no way a wand pumped with magic wouldn't do.

He didn't leave things to chance.

As the Weasley boy formed the words of the jelly-leg jinx, Scorpius pushed Patricia aside gently and pointed his wand towards the Weasly boy 1 just in time for the spell to hit it like lightening striking a metal rod.

The two second years' eyes went wide as the spell stuck to the end of Scorpius's wand for a split second and then shot back towards them, hitting James square in the shoulder.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Merlin!" James gasped in pain, the former jelly-leg jinxed having obviously been upgraded on the lethal scale. A tiny column of smoke was rising where the spell had hit and Scorpius could see charred skin through the fingers that were clutching at the wound.

That definitely wasn't supposed to happen.

"James!" Albus cried as he ran past them, pushing them aside on his way. Along with his cousin, Albus knelt next to James who was clutching his teeth, trying hard not to scream.

"What did you do?" Patricia asked, still blinking the light out of her eyes, "What happened?"

"What did you do to James?" Weasley boy 1 echoed, his face contorting in anger, "What did you do to him?"

"I didn't even cast a spell!" Scorpius defended himself, raising his hands in surrender. "I just - I just tried blocking the jinx with my wand. I didn't know it would do that! It was an accident!"

"As if!" James Potter growled, standing up shakily, "Don't think I don't know who you are, _Malfoy_."

The way James said his name struck a cord. He didn't just pour his anger in it, he practically spat it out like an inedible piece of food. Now Scorpius wasn't one to have too much pride in his name, not with the crimes that came with it, but he had not once been ashamed of carrying it. The panic that had crept on Scorpius melted away slowly for the benefit of indignity. Sure, he felt bad about the whole 'I accidentally burnt your shoulder' thing but he knew there was nothing urgent about it.

The wound was literally cauterised on the spot and it was tiny. There was no risk of infection or bleeding out. No bone had been broken. All there was was pain and from the dangerously feral glare James Potter was sending him, the pain was obviously numbed by his rage.

"And what, pray tell, do you know about _me_?" Scorpius challenged, his fist balling at his side. He noticed Albus Potter suddenly turning towards to him like a deer hearing a hunter's step. The black haired boy's eyes seemed oddly hopeful despite the situation. Not, it wasn't entirely hope, it was also curiosity.

There it was again. That same question whose words he couldn't even make out.

It was endlessly frustrating. He wanted to shout out something, tell him the truth, just tell him - but what was it that he was supposed to say? What was it that Albus wanted, _needed_ to hear?

"You're an arrogant sod who believes he's better than everyone else because of his blood." James replied bitterly, "I know what you people did to muggleborns."

" _Everyone_ knows what the Malfoys did during the war." Scorpius replied, looking cooly at the older boy. He was about the same height as him but James Potter had a stronger build and a vaster repertoire of spells. Nevertheless, Scorpius didn't back away. He may not have had James experience, but the young Malfoy was not above simply ducking a spell and kicking his opponent where it truly hurt. "Everyone _here_ also knows that you were trying to jinx Patricia when she was already unable to continue fighting."

"Trying to be a hero then?" Weasley Boy 1 taunted, "Already protecting your future Slytherin minions?"

Scorpius was tempted to say that he was probably going to end up in Gryffindor like them but he missed his chance when Patricia spoke for him, squinting as she slowly regained her eyesight.

"Good Merlin, Weasley!" Patricia chided, "He's a _first year._ What is wrong with you? You harass my friends, try to jinx me when my eyes are closed and then accuse a first year who hasn't even learnt his first spell of trying to torture you on purpose? The war is _over_. Stop living in the past."

" _Just a first year?_ He just _burnt_ my shoulder!" James cried, "He's showing his true colours! And stop twisting everything with your Slytheriness and making it sound like everything is my fault! I cast a _harmless_ jelly-leg jinx. He _burnt_ my shoulder!"

"It was an accident." Scorpius repeated.

"Then apologise!" James growled.

"Don't apologise." Patricia told Scorpius before turning back to her year-mates, "He has nothing to apologise for," she argued defensively, "you're the pighead who forced his hand. And don't think for a second that I have forgotten what you did to Stephanie!"

"That was supposed to be for you!" Weasley boy 1 snipped back.

"Does it matter?" Patricia asked, clearly outraged, "It's cruel either way! What were you _thinking_?"

"Mrs. Longbottom can always fix it at school." Weasley boy 1 huffed, "Burns? Not so much."

"Permanence isn't the issue here!" She half-yelled, getting frustrated beyond possible, her finger pointed towards them in accusation, "You two keep talking about how horrible Voldemort and his Death Eaters were but in the end, you're just as bad!"

"Say that again." James snapped, going red in the face, "I dare you to say that again!"

"You use your father's reputation as a cover for all your horrible deeds, Potter." Patricia spat, "you're beyond disgusting. _You_ should be in Slytherin by your standards."

"I would never step inside those rotten dungeons." James growled, "I would never be an evil, manipulative, prat like you who denies everything you've done during the war like it is not your problem, who acts like nothing happened, like -"

James Potter continued his rant angrily, listing all the stereotypical 'evil traits' Slytherins were said to share. The boy looked genuinely offended that the pureblood spawns of war criminals were allowed to think they were innocent, allowed to still be arrogant and self-centred. It was bullshit, Scorpius thought. Everyone was entitled to have some self-importance. And to think James Potter believed that they should be ashamed of their parents' actions! Was his head really that empty? Scorpius couldn't tell if he was pissed at the older boy or simply amazed at the wonders of human stupidity.

The young Malfoy looked around to see if anyone else was at least partially tempted to laugh at how ridiculous James Potter was. Patricia was obviously fuming more and more and Scorpius was beginning to fear she would explode with how red her face had gotten. Weasley boy 1 was nodding in agreement to what his friend was saying, like a sheep following his shepherd.

Good lord Merlin. _More_ morons.

Only Albus seemed to have a bit of distance to the fight. His fists were balled, trembling and his teeth were forcefully clenched. Scorpius could tell something within the boy was edging to burst out but he was restraining himself, a lot. He was clearly focused on some kind of inner battle rather than the war between Patricia and James. In fact, he was looking everywhere but at them.

Everywhere unfortunately, included Scorpius. Both boys startled as their eyes met once more.

"What an idiot."

Scorpius was surprised someone had dared voice his thoughts but then he noticed everyone staring at him. Had he said that? Ah well.

"I mean are you really _that_ stupid?" Scorpius continued, turning to James Potter and figuring he might as well, "Is it even possible to have so little grey cells? 'All Slytherins are evil' is something three year olds say and they don't even know what they're talking about. This isn't even just prejudice anymore - it's indoctrination."

"What are you insinuating?" Weasley boy 1 asked, stepping closer to James as if it wasn't already clear enough who's side he was on.

"Oops, sorry." Scorpius apologised monotonously, "Is indoctrination to big of a word for the scary twelve year old?"

Patricia snorted.

"You can't blame them," she sneered, "They speak gorilla, not english."

"You really think you're better than us?" James snarled, gripping his wand tightly. The red skin on his shoulder paled in comparison to his face and for all but the way he refrained from moving his left arm, James looked like he had completely forgotten about his wound. It had never truly been about that accident anyway.

"Perhaps not in absolute value," Scorpius replied fluidly, laying a thick coat of his privileged education, "But we at the least do not recede to unfounded bigotry when a morsel of skepticism bites at our hearts. In fact, I believe the two of you are brilliant examples of hypocrisy and irony at their finest. Only pacifistic giants crying for the unity of the political landscape of our dear government could hope to match you - But I disgress."

To say Scorpius wasn't finding immense pleasure in the confused looks of the two Potters and the Weasley would be to lie. He didn't care much for fancy words but he knew how to use them and Scorpius honestly believed in the use of _any_ means to achieve one's goals. Not only that but it was kind of fun to show idiots what they were.

"The point is," he continued with ease, "Your narrow views are outdated and the denial of your implication in the onset of this conflict is tragically plaintive. From a moral standpoint - the one you seem to worship like Merlin's left shoe, might I add - tyrannising fellow children based on a medieval and controversial system that divides people according to which traits are more prominent than others is far more condemnable than accidentally harming an other in hope of defending an outnumbered and wronged friend. You may spout great maxims of justice and righteousness but as they say, _barba non facit philosophum_. Forgive me - I forget I am speaking to primates."

"You two are idiots." He summarised.

The blank looks he received were golden. Continuously insulting someone was always much more entertaining when the recipient couldn't even tell when he was being stabbed.

"What?" Weasley boy 1 blurted out eloquently.

"I am merely pointing out the obvious, of course." Scorpius shrugged, "Since it seems you need to have it spelled out in bright bold letters on a black background to take note of it and I am only happy to oblige. It is the great men's duty to help their lesser - call it _noblesse obligé_ if you wish."

Weasley boy 1 frowned, clearly debating how offended he was supposed to be.

"So much for not receding to unfounded bigotry." said a new voice, unamused.

Without them noticing, a small crowd had gathered on both sides of the fight. No doubt some of the students were just poor unfortunate souls who just wanted to pass through the corridor but a lot of the spectators were obviously staying for the show.

A small girl had stepped up unnoticed next to Albus sometime during the fight. She had his height but not his waist; the girl was more on the chubby side. She had sky blue eyes and a cloud of ginger hair that framed her head like a helmet made out of cotton candy. But what was most remarkable was her skin.

It was pale - not like Scorpius's who looked like porcelain doll's as Ethan liked to tease but like a thin curtain through which one could almost see everything. The young Malfoy had no doubt the slightest blush, the slightest tan, the slightest bruise would light up like lightening in the night. And yet there was not a blemish on the girl, as if she was protected by an angel. There was something fundamentally wrong about that, Scorpius decided.

He could hear it in her tone, in the way her sharp eyebrows knitted together. The girl was a fighter - the kind that slams her feet on the ground before anyone else can take her breathing space. If anything, he would have thought she was doing the protecting.

She was different from her cousin. Once again, Scorpius was very well aware who he was facing. He couldn't exactly remember her name but at the same time, he knew more than 'she's another Weasley'. The girl in front of him was the daughter of Ronald and Hermione Weasley, co-heroes of the war along Harry Potter. While his father never said a word about Harry Potter, Scorpius remembered him complaining about 'Granger' and 'Weasley' often when they had still been on talking terms. He also distinctively remembered pretending not to notice when a middle aged man pointed at him on the platform.

The Weasley girl was different from her cousin Weasley boy 1 and it wasn't just the absence of freckles. There was something about her -

But she wasn't different _enough_.

The abrupt thought surprised Scorpius. He didn't know where it had come from.

Perhaps it was in the way Albus seemed to throw her _that same question_ a bit more hesitantly. He didn't do that to his brother, to Patricia or to Weasley boy 1. He had definitely seen something in Scorpius but that same something seemed a bit more reluctant when it came to his cousin.

What was it? What was it that Albus Potter saw?

"Unfounded bigotry would be taking prejudices for laws." Scorpius replied cooly before he the girl could notice he was staring. His eyes met Albus's once more and he was surprised to see amusement in his. Scorpius frowned slightly, wordlessly asking him why. Albus only glanced at Rose in answer, which did little to help Scorpius understand. "I simply stated the fact that your cousins clearly lack a certain… level of cultural education."

"Knowledge and intelligence are not synonym." The girl huffed, "And you can't base a person's worth on either."

Ah, so she was talking about that comment on great men and their lesser.

"I concede that my metaphor was too general." Scorpius allowed diplomatically, "I meant on a rhetorical plane. I do not believe it arrogant to say that I am indeed superior to them both in knowledge and wit when it comes to rhetorics and debates - A fact you can see from their accurate impressions of gaping fish."

"They're not - James!" The girl suddenly gasped, "What happened to your shoulder?"

"My shoulder?" James asked, frowning. Then, remembering his burn, his face fell in a grimace, "Malfoy did that."

"Malfoy did -" The Weasley girl repeated in shock before snapping to Scorpius, " _You_ did that?"

"It was an accident-" Scorpius said again, eyes glancing at Albus who looked like something was about to explode and - was that pity? Why was Albus pitying him?

Why was the train starting to shake?

"You _attacked_ James?" The Weasley girl continued, her temper rising way too fast. She wasn't like Patricia had been minutes before; the Slytherin had been wronged and demanding to be righted. No, the Weasley girl was angry like her life depended on it. She wanted blood, not revenge. She wanted to _destroy_ Scorpius before he could hurt anyone else. She had already stepped forward to the point where she was nose to nose with Scorpius and although the latter was towering over her, he certainly didn't feel like the one looking down.

What was very worrisome was also the way the girl's focus was solely on him, not even partially distracted by the fact that the train was shaking like it was cursed. Scorpius knew he wasn't imagining it; worried murmurs had begun spreading through the crowds and students had already ran off, probably to find a teacher or take shelter somewhere. Even James, Albus and the Weasley boy were having a silent a conversation and looking around nervously.

Nervously, but not afraid. Curious.

" _He_ attacked _Patricia_." Scorpius corrected her, quite unwisely if Albus's cringe was any indication.

"You know," The Weasley girl started calmly, dangerously calmly, "My father told me to watch out for you earlier."

"I saw." Scorpius quipped.

"But I thought I'd give you a chance." The girl continued, ignoring his response, "I thought you didn't deserve to be judged before we'd even talk once." Her icy blue eyes were boring into his in a way that had Scorpius wishing he could just make another stupid pun and break the tension. But he wasn't going to - because he was _right_ , and he _knew_ it. The tremors were escalating but the girl's anger did not quell.

"Obviously I was wrong." The girl growled, "You _are_ a monster. You _are_ just like your father. And in light of that revelation, I will give you a single warning: _Stay away from my family_."

By then, Scorpius was struggling to keep his footing, as was everyone else. But the Weasley girl couldn't have been more indifferent to fact that something was very wrong with the Hogwarts Express. In fact, Scorpius had half a mind to abandon this pointless argument to find out what was happening and Scorpius _never_ abandoned arguments once he got into them. It was one of the reasons Ethan never hung around Scorpius when other people were there. Too much drama.

"Rose." Albus said, trotting to her side and clasping her shoulder. He looked at her intensely as he tried to get her attention back from Scorpius, "Rose, you're doing it again."

"I'm doing what?" The girl - Rose - snapped, still not looking at her cousin.

"The train." Albus explained, "It's shaking."

That had gotten her attention. Rose blinked a couple of times, looked around her and finally noticed that everyone had long stopped paying attention to their arguments to the benefit of being terrified out of their socks. The blue smoke had long vanished but the lights were blinking, the floor vibrating and the whole train swaying dangerously.

And then it all stopped at once.

"Sorry." Rose apologised sheepishly, "I hadn't realised."

 _Hadn't realised?_ Scorpius had to stop his mouth from hanging open. That whole display had been _accidental magic_? Accidental magic was never that bad - not at eleven years old! Sure there were instances of objects exploding, things catching fire, houses changing colours… But this was the Hogwarts Express. It was shielded by dozens of wards accumulated over the years and it was a _whole bloody train_.

No wonder something had felt off about the girl. She was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

" _I'm_ a monster?" Scorpius found himself saying in disbelief, "What the hell was that?"

"That was-"

"Would someone be kind enough to explain what is going on here?"

Scorpius looked around to see their audience had dispersed and it took no time at all to figure out why they had absconded so quickly. Standing in the corridor right behind Patricia and Scorpius were two figures. The first, a girl with short blond hair, a slight tan, and a neat 'P' pinned to her chest was keeping herself from rolling her eyes as soon as she spotted James and Patricia. However, it wasn't her that had rudely interrupted Rose as she was about to reply to Scorpius - it had been the second figure, the one she had dragged to the crime scene.

"Helen." Weasley boy 1 greeted with a gulp, "Professor Patil."

Do something stupidly reckless? _Check._

* * *

"How was your walk?" Ethan asked as Scorpius slid the compartment door open.

"I have detention for the first two weeks of term." Scorpius said irritation dripping off his every word, "Robin is terrified of me - probably of you too. I discovered a new way of repelling certain spells. I am officially an enemy of every Weasley, Potter and ally on campus. Patricia Selwyn said I was going to be a great Slytherin. Her now bald Ravenclaw friend Stephanie adopted me. Rose Weasley nearly crashed the train. The usual. You?"

Ethan raised his head from his book and looked at Scorpius like a near-sighted kid trying to read the whiteboard from the back row.

"I left you unsupervised for thirty minutes."

Scorpius sat down.

" _Thirty minutes_." Ethan repeated.


	2. An absence, a fight and a hatstall

The lake was beautiful.

Even in the dark of the night, the soft ripples on its surface glimmered. The water was completely opaque, much like ink, but the light of the stars and the moon was reflected and to the first years riding boats to Hogwarts in silent anticipation, it looked like they were floating in space. For a few minutes, they were caught between endless skies and seas, with nothing else to accompany them but the gently blow of the wind.

To Scorpius, it was like time had stopped. It was the perfect moment; there was no work, no obligation, there was nothing to do but wait for the boats to cross the lake. The young Malfoy knew to appreciate a moment of contemplation when one presented itself. It was rare to have the opportunity to admire the world around without restraint.

To think they were so small.

It didn't make much sense to him but Scorpius was _aware_ of the depth under their boat and the depth over their heads. Somehow, he was conscious of the life, the activity under the lake. No - that was too much. He was conscious of the fact that there _could_ be life and activity under the lake. Perhaps it was because it was nighttime, perhaps boats full of first years were just that unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but whatever lived under the surface was passive, content with simply watching them go. But there was _something_. There were probably lots of somethings. And even though the first year couldn't say for sure, he could imagine countless possibilities that filled the darkness under the lake.

That was the beauty in darkness; it could hide anything. Just because one couldn't see something didn't mean it didn't exist. In fact, Scorpius was a firm believer of the fact that there was always so much more where one didn't look, that there still so much more to discover about the world.

The wind whispered again and Scorpius felt at peace. The wind always felt _right_ for some reason. It was like water: rippling, flowing, constantly moving, adapting itself to its container and shaping it all the same. When wind caressed his skin, Scorpius felt like part of the great big world, connected to everyone else under the same immeasurable forces.

"Keep that up and you'll hurt your neck."

Scorpius looked behind him, realising he had been staring up for the better part of the ride.

"You can't blame me for admiring the scenery like everyone else." He told Ethan, a bit sad at the prospect of breaking the silence. There were occasional murmurs washing over the boats, but overall, the eleven year olds had been oddly respectful of the moment, all mesmerised by it.

"It's not the stars they're admiring - you can see those every night." Ethan replied, nodding towards the front of the boat, "It's _that_."

Scorpius faced the front once more to see what Ethan was nudging at and his eyes widened.

It was indeed a great sight. In the horizon, in the middle of the pitch black bushes of trees, stood Hogwarts. It rose from the limit of the lake, growing in towers, walls and arches intricately, almost as if it was coiling around itself trying to touch the moon. Hogwarts was a fortress.

The candlelight that escaped from its windows felt warmer, wilder than the lights of the night.

And soon enough, Scorpius forgot all about the wind and waves. His mind was on the organism in front of him. And he made no mistake - the castle was alive. In fact, it was pumping with life, feeding the flames of its candles, moving its limbs, protecting the students, teachers and ghost in its veins.

A new year had begun at Hogwarts.

 **LINEBREAK**

News traveled fast among children with nothing else to do but gossip. Scorpius already had a reputation thanks to his family. Malfoy, _mauvaise foi_ , bad faith. Even their name was ominous without their history. People were either scared of him or disgusted by his family's blatant survival instincts. It wasn't enough that they had committed horrendous crimes during the war - the Malfoys' reputation stemmed from the lies, the bribes and the technicalities they fell back on to escape justice as well.

It was a well-known fact: The Malfoys were always on the winning side and if not, it was because they hadn't had a choice.

These words were always said bitterly.

Of course, burning the shoulder of the son of the saviour of the wizarding world didn't help much. Sure, the wound wasn't actually bad but it was what the gesture represented that mattered. People nowadays were rarely so prejudiced that they would label Scorpius as the Devil's spawn on first sight. They were always wary, sure, perhaps even antagonistic, but few spoke of their assumptions. However, the smallest spark was likely to set off fiendfyre.

And now, as they stood in front of the doors of the Great Hall waiting to be officially matriculated in one of the four houses, Scorpius could feel the glares of his fellow first years. He hadn't even started class and already he had offended ninety percent of the population of Hogwarts.

Ethan did say Scorpius had an inborn talent to rub people the wrong way.

Albus Potter looked like he wanted to talk to him but the boy kept glancing hesitantly at his cousin and sighing in frustration. Rose Weasley looked particularly murderous, standing slightly in front of Albus defensively. She reminded Scorpius of James Potter a bit, only less childish and thus less likely to be caught hiding his corpse.

The young Malfoy was just about to ask Albus what was up with him when a deliberate cough called him to attention.

"Good evening first years." The man said with a smile. He was tall with a friendly face and short brown hair. His belly was sticking out like that of every middle aged man who settled down for a comfortable life. In fact, every inch of the man screamed 'family dad' and yet there was a dangerous fire in his eyes that just couldn't seem to leave.

"I am professor Longbottom," he introduced himself, earning a few gasps from the students who hadn't recognised him already, "I will shortly be leading you into the Great Hall to be sorted. Now don't be nervous - this isn't a test you can fail. For those who haven't grown in magical families, the sorting will divide you in four Houses - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff - according to your personality and moral values. During your stay Hogwarts, your House will be like your family and you will be representing it in your every actions. As such, bad behaviour will reflect badly on your House and vice versa but please don't be too paranoid about House points and rivalries; Big Brother isn't watching you to make sure you worship your House."

Scorpius snorted at the reference, but he had been the only one to. The other students looked at him weirdly or angrily, depending on whether they were just confused or thought he had disrespected _the_ Neville Longbottom.

Neville Longbottom on the other hand, looked genuinely impressed and startled. Scorpius couldn't blame him - it was pure dumb luck he had referenced the one muggle book he was reading.

"Ahem." The professor caught himself, "Follow me then."

The doors of the Hall opened, revealing a large room neatly crowded with students. As they walked in, following the straight path bordered by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, Scorpius found himself thinking he had landed in another world - or another time. From the layout of the tables to the banners hanging on the walls, everything in the Great Hall was strongly traditional. It was like walking in a museum or handling an antique; Scorpius was almost afraid of walking to hard on the centuries old stones at his feet.

History had been made again and again within those walls, Scorpius realised. His eye caught onto several scorch marks that were never covered or removed on the wall, as well as graffitis on the benches and on the tables. Everywhere there were traces, souvenirs of all the students, teachers and others who had stepped inside the castle, of all the lives that had made memories in this very Hall.

And then there was the ceiling. It was a very famous ceiling in the wizarding world; the kind of ceiling experts in charms told their apprentices to study in detail and it wasn't hard to see why.

The night sky was the ceiling. No, not exactly. It looked more like the night sky reflected on the Black Lake; it shimmered and moved like water, as if the Black Lake itself had been reversed on the ceiling. It was almost a miracle drops of water weren't threatening the floating candles to -

Scorpius nearly collided into the student in front of him but Ethan was there to catch him by the elbow.

"Look in front, idiot." Ethan hissed.

The first years had finished their little parade and come to a stop at the end of the path. A stool and a hat stood in front of the staff table, in the middle of which Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sat, her back straight and her head high. Her stern gaze fell on the first years, assessing them without malice.

The hat stirred.

" _Show me your mind, show me your heart_ ," It sang, its voice raspy yet clear,

 _Put me on your head, let me show your way,_

 _For the four Founders intended you apart,_

 _in bouts and games but never in disarray_

" _Your new home may be in Gryffindor,_

 _where legends dwell, heroes and revolutionaries,_

 _where the heart rules and the lions roar,_

 _the tower of the brave and chivalrous, say eulogies._

" _Unless you find solace in Ravenclaw,_

 _where inhabit the scholars and the creative both,_

 _where the mind is queen and ideas are law,_

 _Home of innovation and achievement, of the greatest growth_

" _Or perhaps your place is none other than Hufflepuff,_

 _where reside the knights and the saints, often neglected,_

 _where respect, understanding and kindness are enough,_

 _The most loyal of friends, loved even by the otherwise selected_

" _And if you happen to find your way in Slytherin,_

 _where future gods and dark lords roam all the same_

 _where ambition, greed and selfishness is not a sin_

 _Then you must know and want, and succeed the game._

" _A thousand years I have watched over this hive,_

 _A thousand years I have witnessed rivalry bloom_

 _A thousand years I have seen prejudice strive_

 _Now I know, it is time for change or time for doom._

" _It started with four and shall end in one defy,_

 _Worlds are changing and truth with prevail,_

 _The brave will run and the loyal will lie,_

 _The proud will bow and the smart will fail,_

" _For Salazar said people were not human without will,_

 _Rowena added minds were not human without reason,_

 _Helga thought bodies were not human without warmth,_

 _And Godric declared souls were not human without values."_

The Hall remained silent after hat finished its song. The students didn't seem to think much of it, clearly waiting for the sorting to start but Scorpius didn't miss the dark looks the teachers were sending each other.

"The last part didn't even rhyme!" Rose Weasley whispered in frustration.

"Please come forth when your name is called." Professor Longbottom calmly instructed as the Headmistress handed him a list.

"Abacus, Melinda!"

And so started the Sorting Ceremony, punctuated by heavy applause after every decision from the Hat. The first years all looked completely nervous as they stepped up but true to professor Longbottom's words, each House welcomed its new member like family and it wasn't long before new additions relaxed around the older students.

Scorpius didn't pay much attention to the sorting of others. It wasn't so much that he didn't care about anyone else but himself, it was more that listening to names and Houses wasn't all that entertaining. He was much more intrigued by the staff table.

Especially one woman, with elegant dark blond hair and stern black eyes. The woman in question was one Scorpius knew very : Mme. Blishwick. She was beautiful and looked no older than twenty five despite approaching her forties. He hadn't seen her in years, not since the time where his father still talked to him, but he was very well aware of how much she had grown to hate the Malfoys, him included.

It was a morose thought, but among all the hatred he received, Mme. Blishwick's was the only one he respected and considered truly justified and somehow, it had always made him admire the woman. She was strong and just, not unlike Headmistress McGonagall was said to be.

Before their eyes could meet, Scorpius diverted his attention.

In fact, it wasn't until Ethan elbowed him that Scorpius realised he had been staring at the ceiling once more.

"Mackerbrough, Delphine!" Longbottom continued.

A small girl with long black hair and warm brown eyes clumsily walked to the stool, blushing heavily. The hat didn't stay for more than two seconds on her head before declaring her a Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Ah. Well then.

Ignoring the malicious whispers around, Scorpius walked over to the stool like a salaryman going to work. He had never been the kind of boy to shrink with attention - in fact, he was downright used to people staring and pointing in disgust. He liked to think he had built an immunity to social anxiety. Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to let them affect him.

As he turned around to sit down, Scorpius noticed one pair of eyes looking at him that startled him. Albus Potter was once more staring intensely and the young Malfoy was soon reminded of _that_ question. It was strange how Albus Potter looked like he was anticipating Scorpius's sorting more than the others. The desperation he had seen in the former's eyes on the train was reaching its climax and Scorpius felt like Albus was relying on him for something, even if they didn't know the first thing about each other.

It was flattering to be his only hope, but Scorpius was somewhat afraid to disappoint him. Even without Ethan telling him, he knew very well he had his fair share of flaws and that - more importantly - he was nothing like what people expected him to be. Whatever Albus was asking of him, chances were Scorpius couldn't provide. He couldn't even understand the young Potter for Merlin's sake!

' _Interesting boy, isn't he?_ '

Scorpius nearly jumped when the Hat's voice sounded in his head. He hadn't even realised Longbottom had placed the old piece of cloth on his head.

' _I wonder what his Sorting will give,_ ' the Hat mused, ' _I apologies for focusing on another Sorting during yours, young Malfoy, but please understand; it takes all the fun away when the student knows where I want to Sort them._ '

' _I'm dreadfully sorry for ruining your fun_.' Scorpius deadpanned.

' _I must say though_ ,' the Hat continued, ' _Your mind is quite interesting. I have rarely seen someone so… harmonious_.'

' _Er… Thanks?_ ' Scorpius frowned.

' _Oh well, better get on with it._ ' The Hat sighed before yelling, "Gryffindor!"

Scorpius barely shrugged. There was one golden rule in life he had sworn to follow ever since his pocket money had gone into the negatives when he had been six: Ethan always, _always_ wins his bets.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case of everyone else. There was a pregnant silence in the Hall for a moment, then hesitant claps that slowly dissolved into a polite applause. A few students looked completely unsure to what had just happened and James Potter, Weasley boy 1 and Rose Weasley didn't even try to hide their anger.

Only Albus - _it was always Albus_ \- lit up at the news. His smile had blossomed and his eyes twinkled in joy. If he hadn't known better, Scorpius would have thought he had just given the brand new broom model to the young Potter. But it was Scorpius and his Sorting that had somehow brought on that reaction.

Was that the right answer then?

Unable to get a straight reply, Scorpius made his way to the end of the Gryffindor table after giving Ethan a last glance.

"Michaels, Gabriel!" Longbottom recited.

There were already four first years at the Gryffindor table and thank Merlin for small mercies. Had there not been, Scorpius would have had been forced to sit next to the two Gryffindors he had antagonised on the train. Instead, he sat next to a girl who didn't look like she thought much of him - probably muggleborn who hadn't heard of the Malfoys then - and facing a guy who looked at him like he was a gnome with snot all over his face.

"Gryffindor!"

"Moires, Hayden!"

Gabriel Michaels joined them, clearly avoiding Scorpius. The boy looked like a bludger with curly blond hair, permanently sunburnt pink skin and baby blue eyes. Any expression other than hearty smile looked out of place on his face and hence why his obvious fear of Scorpius rendered everyone uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?" The girl seating next to Scorpius asked. Her brown hair was extremely short, almost shaved, and she wore rectangular glasses over her amber eyes.

"I'm suffering from unfair discrimination." Scorpius shrugged indifferently.

"Moires, Hayden!"

"Discrimination?" The girl frowned, "But you're like, a white guy."

"Who attacked another student out of revenge for his homicidal family." Huffed the first guy to have been sorted in Griffindor, his brown windswept hair almost covering his stormy grey eyes. "How are your parents not in prison again?"

"Hayden Moires?"

The three new Gryffindors turned to the staff table where professor Longbottom had been repeating the same name. No student stepped up and a wave of confusion washed over the first years. Whispers began spreading until professor Patil spoke up from her end of the staff table.

"Oh! Mr. Moires!" She said, remembering something, "He wasn't feeling too well in the train. I sent him straight to Hannah. Sorry Neville, I had completely forgotten to notify you."

"Oh, not to worry." Professor Longbottom smiled, "Potter, Albus!"

And then the Sorting received Scorpius's undivided attention. Albus walked up to the stool with his fists balled up, as if trying to find enough determination to walk. But Scorpius was relieved to see the conflict that had been so handicapping in Albus's eyes was completely gone, forsaken for a decision Scorpius wasn't aware Albus had to make.

Rose Weasley gave a reassuring thumbs up to her cousin as he sat down and to her surprise, he looked away.

Albus could only look at Scorpius as the Hat spoke to him. At first, the young Malfoy thought he had been looking at his older brother but it soon became apparent that the black haired boy needed courage that only Scorpius could offer.

It was uncanny how many times their eyes met. They weren't having a silent conversation - how could they? They had never spoken before, much less become acquainted enough to read each other so easily. However, Scorpius liked knowing Albus was there. He didn't know why but it was reassuring being around the other boy. It was like he approved of everything Scorpius did and in turn, Scorpius would approve of him. Though approval wasn't the exact word needed - it was something more akin to acknowledgement.

Albus was clearly worried. His face reminded Scorpius of a child who had accidentally unsealed a poltergeist and was completely helpless against it, a child who could only wait for his parents to yell at him and for the poltergeist to throw chaos in every corner of the house. Immediately, it dawned on him. Albus was about to do something stupid. Albus was going to do something stupid because Scorpius had done something equally stupid.

Scorpius grinned. So that had been the question. Albus's eyes widened as he caught the young Malfoy's grin but his surprise quickly melted in soft gratitude.

"Slytherin!" The Hat cried.

Professor Longbottom startled.

"What?" James Potter cried as he abruptly stood up, making his younger brother flinch, "That's not possible! He can't be in Slytherin!"

Rose Weasley looked positively shaken up. She had paled instantly but she wasn't angry like her cousin - she was simply terrified, confused. She hadn't known Albus was going to be Sorted in Slytherin and judging by how they walked close to each other, limbs almost entangled, by how inseparable they had been on the way to Hogwarts, she was probably a bit hurt by it. But when she looked at her cousin, there was no reproach there, only a hoard of questions under which she seemed to suffocate.

Scorpius noticed the sleeves of her robes were curling up. Candles floating over her flickered. Whatever Albus going to Slytherin meant for their relationship, it was doing more than upsetting her.

"Do it again!" James Potter demanded.

"Ja -" Professor Longbottom started before he caught himself, "Mr. Potter, please. It's just a sorting."

"It has to be a mistake!" James argued fiercely, receiving unsure glances from his housemates.

"I - It isn't." Albus stammered angrily, locking eyes with his brother, and adding with more confidence, "I'm in Slytherin."

Albus was borderline crying but the youngest Potter was keeping up his proud front. For a second, the two Potter boys had a staring contest, a battle of the wills.

A roar of applause suddenly erupted from the Slytherin table, every single one of its students standing up and cheering at an overwhelmed Albus. Albus fell off the stool in surprise and an older Slytherin, one with a bright 'P' on his chest, motioned gingerly for him to join them at their table. A gentle push and a smile from the Head of Gryffindor, professor Longbottom, made him relax and he practically ran over to his new House.

Albus Potter was completely engulfed by his new housemates who slapped his back and threw their arms around his shoulder with pride. Scorpius couldn't have been happier.

The young Malfoy let his goofy smile slip when James Potter glared at him. He swore the older boy was muttering insults about how it was his fault his brother had joined the dark side, how he was only smiling because he was tearing a family apart etc… but to be honest, James Potter could have been shooting unforgivable at him and Scorpius's mood still wouldn't have gone down a single notch. It was like the Hat had said - change was coming.

A few names later, Ethan was predictably sorted in Slytherin. Scorpius saw his friend shaking hands with Albus as they introduced each other.

Then came Robin's sorting. Scorpius wasn't sure if he was glad that his first muggleborn friend was sorted in Gryffindor with him or not, especially since the boy just wouldn't make eye contact with him. But Robin was different from James Potter or Joshua Cattermole, the first year Gryffindor who seemed to hate his guts. Robin, like Gabe, was _afraid_ of him and that was just common sense, survival instinct, however you want to call it. It wasn't deliberate.

It wasn't before Rose Weasley's sorting that things became interesting again.

The girl hadn't gotten over her cousin's sorting yet when her name was called, and she was still clearly distraught. Scorpius could only imagine how jumbled her mind was in that state. Even professor Longbottom asked if she was alright or if she wanted to go see Mrs. Longbottom. But the girl bravely decided to go through with her sorting between glances towards Albus.

She sat at the stool and the professor placed the Sorting Hat on her head. And then they waited. And then Rose argued with the Hat.

"Gryff-" The Hat started.

And then Rose argued further with the Hat. And further. And further.

Scorpius was impressed by the range of emotions the girl was going through. She was scared, then angry, then surprised, then accepting, then angry again, then sad, then outraged, then happy, then doubtful - she even laughed once or twice. If anything, Rose Weasley was like a raw storm. She had so much power, so many emotions just whirl-pooling within her that it was only a matter of time before she exploded.

Scorpius wasn't afraid of much, but that girl just wasn't stable.

It wasn't long before murmurs of 'Hatstall' began spreading and when Scorpius checked the time, more than five minutes had passed and Rose was _still_ arguing.

"She's going to go to Slytherin." Scorpius heard Weasley boy 1 say to James bitterly, "Rose and Albus have been stuck together since birth; they're practically twins. She won't abandon him."

"But she's a Gryffindor at heart." James replied, seething, "I don't know what Albus thinks he's doing! Did he even realise what position he's putting Rose in?"

Scorpius caught Rose glancing at him and then at Albus, before resuming her argument with the Hat. The Hall was becoming restless - at this rate, Rose was going to have the longest Sorting in History.

But Rose was making a choice. Like all the Potters, Weasleys and co, Rose Weasley had without a doubt grown up thinking Gryffindor was the best House and Slytherin the worst. Perhaps the teachings hadn't been so direct but with their Gryffindor parents being worshipped by every wizard alive and all the Slytherin Death Eaters being demonised all the same, they had built a stereotypical image of the Houses. This was the mould society accepted and to break from these preconceived ideas at only eleven years old was no small feat.

Frankly speaking, Scorpius had it easy. He had gone the easy way around: from a 'dark' family to a 'light' House. Surely once the hatred died down, others would appreciate his choice. After all, wasn't Sirius Black hailed a hero despite coming from a family ten times worst than the Malfoys?

But what Albus had done took much more courage, ironically enough. In a post-war era like theirs, Albus had taken the cursed wand that had opened the wound. He had taken a path for which he was going to be scorned even by his own family. He had refused the easy way of conformity and chosen to be true to himself instead, admitting his own greed, his own humanity. It was no wonder he had been so conflicted when he had faced the fact that he was everything his family had associated with evil.

 _For Salazar said people were not human without will,_ the Hat had sung.

And now it was Rose's time to make the same choice.

While everyone else started complaining at how long the sorting was taking, Scorpius focused on how important it truly was. To many, Houses was just a school thing, just like grades and teachers. They wouldn't matter after seven years. However, in truth, which Houses people chose reflected something much bigger. Some would argue it reflected a person's true self, Scorpius thought it reflected society as a whole.

That Albus and Scorpius were willing to break tradition showed that they had taken the first step towards destroying the black and white divide. They were a Potter and a Malfoy, the two extremes; and they were crossing over a bridge even full-grown wizards pretended not to see.

How far did the prejudice go? Scorpius wondered as he stared at Rose Weasley. On the train, he had felt there was something special about her and Albus clearly had too. And yet she wasn't like them; she was in-between.

She wasn't herself.

Scorpius frowned. How did he come up with those thoughts? They _felt_ right - no, he _knew_ they were right - but he just couldn't _see_ it.

Finally, the hat smirked and Rose tensed.

"Hufflepuff!" The Hat cried and Rose nearly chocked on her own spit.

"Wait - what?" She asked in disbelief, "When was Hufflepuff even _on_ the table?"

"Chop chop!" The Hat urged aloud, "Eight minutes! I believe this is a new record."

Stunned, Rose mechanically made her way to the Hufflepuff table where people were clapping - probably more relieved at the fact that her Sorting was finally over.

"What." Scorpius heard Weasley boy 1 say dryly.

"Did that just happen?" James asked another student Scorpius didn't know.

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry." Another Weasley, Weasley boy 2, stated. He surprisingly had blond hair and the most elegant face Scorpius had ever seen on a man but the freckles on his face and the concern in his voice betrayed his name.

"It's like everything that could go wrong during the Sorting Ceremony this year did." James deplored, sending a glare at his little brother from across the Hall. "We're stuck with their Sorting for seven years."

"Murphy's law." Scorpius shrugged.

"Who's Murphy?" Weasley boy 2 frowned.

"Who asked you?" James growled.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, his gaze still lingering on a very confused Rose Weasley. He hadn't expected Hufflepuff - no one ha - oh wait. Scorpius nearly facepalmed as he watched Albus give a few galleons to Ethan. Of course Ethan had betted on her going in Hufflepuff. Why the Hell not?

"So what was that about discrimination and revenge?" The girl next to him asked as professor Longbottom sorted the last names of the list.

"Do you know anything about the Second Wizarding war?" Scorpius asked her in return.

"Not much; my parents are normal people - I mean, they don't have magic." The girl confessed, "I know it happened recently and that the guy called Albus who just went in Slytherin is the son of some big shot hero from the war but that's it."

"Well basically my family was on the bad side of the war." Scorpius explained, "And since I _accidentally_ hurt Albus's older brother on the train, people think I'm out to murder muggleborns."

"There was nothing accidental about it!" James hissed, pointing his finger accusingly at Scorpius.

"Why muggleborns?" The girl asked, ignoring James. She was very level-headed, Scorpius noticed. The girl was honestly interested in how things worked in the wizard world rather than in the childish feud between James and Scorpius.

"Because the Malfoys - his family - think that true wizards can only descend from other wizards." Joshua Cattermole grimaced, glaring at Scorpius, "Their motto is 'only pure' and they think muggleborns are disgusting abominations. Voldemort tried to have them all killed during the war and the Malfoys helped."

"It's ' _toujours pur_ ' - 'always pure' not 'only pure' and that's the Black motto, not the Mafloy's. Ours is 'Purity will always conquer'." Scorpius corrected with an eye roll, "Besides, the war is over and I don't recall doing anything to muggleborns."

Scorpius glanced at Robin who had been staring at him. The dark-skinned boy squeaked and looked away but he didn't deny Scorpius's last statement either. Granted, Robin was probably too shy to deny it anyway but it was something.

"Who cares who's motto it is." Weasley boy 1 frowned, "It's the basic idea behind all blood-purists. And - wait, aren't you technically a Black? I'm pretty sure Teddy mentioned you two being related."

"You do realise that _all_ pureblood families are related, right?" Scorpius asked with a smirk, "We're family too, Weasley." Both James and Weasley boy 1 grimaced in disgust, "And yes - Edward Lupin's grandmother and mine were sisters born under the Black name. Are you going to accuse _him_ of torturing muggleborns in his basement next?"

"He's a half-blood!" Weasley boy a reminded him, "Why would he be against muggleborns?"

" _Voldemort_ was a half-blood, you dimwit." Scorpius deadpanned, "And so is Potter over there - Hell, he's only a quarter muggle. Hence, I ask again: when did _I_ do anything to hurt a muggleborn?"

"Well you clearly have _something_ against the Potters." Joshua sneered, "And if it isn't because of your family pride, I don't know what it is."

"He did say it was an accident." The girl shrugged, "I don't know why you guys make such a big deal out of this."

"Well you know what they say," Scorpius sighed, "Fools don't change their minds."

"That one's on you." The girl chided as James and Weasley boy 1 turned red.

"Attention please!" Headmistress McGonagall called before James and Weasley boy 1 (he really had to start learning their names one day) could strangle him with a well placed hex. She tapped her glass with her fork three times to make sure everyone was listening and cleared her throat. The old witch didn't stand up; old age had long taken her legs from her. However, even small and wrinkly, Minerva McGonagall was obviously not someone to mess with.

"Now that the Sorting is over, I would like to give you all important beginning-of-the-year information. First, I would like you to give a warm welcome to professor Edgar Artemis, your new Transfiguration professor."

A young gangly man with high cheekbones and a dry face stood up curtly, gave a short bow as students clapped, and sat down again.

"As well as professor Hillbill Haye, your new Muggle Studies professor."

A plump man with jet black hair and a broken nose stood up, nodded, and sat down again.

"The same rules as the previous years apply: No lingering in the corridor, no staying out of your common rooms after dinner, no using magic outside of class unless you are in the Practice Room on the Fourth floor and there is a teacher to supervise you, no using unregistered owls to send letters, the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest and Courtyard are still out of bounds and the Quidditch Pitch is only to be used twice a week by each team, under supervision and for a maximum of two hours at a time. Anyone else who wishes to use the Quidditch Pitch must go through their Head of Houses."

Scorpius frowned. He had never heard that Hogwarts had such strict rules even after the war. From what he gathered, they were never allowed to go outside and they were strongly encouraged to either be in a classroom or in their respective common rooms.

"Do not forget to sign the library cards in your common rooms when you wish to go there. Roll-call will be at 7:30 am and 7:30 pm sharp - anyone unaccounted for will get detention. The Duelling Assembly is already opened for sign-up and the Quidditch trials start next week. Please contact your Head of House for both."

"Finally, this year's Head girl and Head boy are Victoire Weasley and Quentin Haye." A tall Ravenclaw with strawberry blond hair and skin dotted with a massive amount of freckles even by Weasley standards stood up gracefully, accompanied by a dark-skinned Slytherin with long dreadlocks and the bluest of eyes. Both received an explosion of cheers from all four tables which only calmed down when the Headmistress cleared her throat. No one missed her fond smile though.

"Enjoy your meal!" Professor Longbottom concluded for her just as food flourished at the centre of every tables.

"Dad didn't tell me there were so many rules." Joshua Cattermole pouted, ignoring the food.

"Probably because that wasn't the case until three years ago." James Potter told him, "No one knows what happened but the staff became seriously paranoid around that time."

"And the ghosts are all depressed too." Weasley boy 2 added, "They're not even coming to the opening feasts anymore. I still remember them during my first year - they were really friendly and all. Nick would make great jokes to welcome the new students. Now you're lucky if you see one in the corridors. Only Peeves - the poltergeist - hasn't changed and that's probably not a good thing."

"The workload increased as well." Another boy - a Gryffindor prefect judging by the 'P' on his chest, complained, "They're trying to distract us. Seriously, if you ask them any question about it, they'll change the subject or tell you it's none of your business. Even Longbottom clams up!"

"So everyone knows something has been going on for three years and no one's ever figured out anything?" The girl sitting next to Scorpius asked, leaning towards the prefect with curiosity lighting up her eyes.

"Pretty much." The prefect sighed dejectedly, then he added with a bright smile, "By the way, my name's Patrick Gregory, I'm your fifth year prefect. I'll be showing you the common rooms later. Mind running your names by me again?"

"Josh Cattermole."

"Alice Akashi."

"Bridget Flore." The girl next to Scorpius said.

"Sandra Byson."

"Scorpius Malfoy."

"Gabe Michaels."

"R-Robin Thompson."

"Tatiana Shafiq."

"Alright, cool." Patrick grinned, "I strongly recommend trying the roasted chicken with a bit of gravy - it tastes divine. Oh! Hullo professor Longbottom!"

The first years craned their heads to see that their Head of House had indeed left the staff table to see them. He was standing right behind Scorpius, casting a shadow over their table.

"Good to see you back Mr. Gregory." Professor Longbottom smiled, "Unfortunately, I haven't come to chat." His tone turned grave, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, the Headmistress would like to see you in her office now."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Scorpius noticed professor Slughorn talking to Patricia over at the Slytherin table. Albus shot him a panicked look.

James and Weasley boy - _Fred -_ James and Fred gulped, paling instantly.

"Is it about what happened in the train?" Tatiana asked.

"I'm afraid it is." Professor Longbottom sighed, "Come on boys, I'll walk you there."

Once they met right outside the Hall, the Head of Gryffindor offered to professor Slughorn to take Patricia there as well, so the older man could enjoy the feast instead. Scorpius didn't miss the glares of pure loathing the second years were sending each other; they obviously had some kind of history. It had surprised him how someone could go as far as pranking a girl bald on the first day of term but considering the tension in the air, Scorpius could see it was just another move in the war between the Gryffindor pranksters and Patricia Selwyn.

Marching to the Headmistress's office was not how Scorpius had thought his first tour of Hogwarts would go, but that didn't mean he missed the opportunity to look around.

It was a curious castle with its moving staircases and grand architecture but it felt rather… restraint. The air was much gloomier than Scorpius had been told. Every child in the magical community of Britain had grown up hearing about the exciting life at Hogwarts and yet so far, Hogwarts hadn't seemed so different from any other boarding schools. There were no ghosts dancing around, no drops of leeway and even the portraits were unnaturally still, like muggle photographs.

Suddenly, Scorpius felt sick. He wasn't dizzy, feverish or nauseous but something under his skin shivered and shrivelled and everything around him just felt wrong. In fact it wasn't _him_ that was sick. If anything, _Hogwarts_ felt corrupted, violated and it frankly disgusted Scorpius. The first year wanted to scream, to ask why the staff wasn't doing anything about whatever it was but he had enough control over himself not to. Besides, the others obviously couldn't feel it. So Scorpius just continued walking, shoving his thoughts aside.

The trip was done in complete silence, much to the discomfort of professor Longbottom. The man was just itching to say something, to start a conversation but clearly, even he knew that would only lead to another duel between Patricia, James and Fred.

At long last, they did make it to Headmistress McGonagall's office, or at least in front of the gargoyle that guarded it.

" _legum servi sumus ut liberi esse possimus._ " The professor recited. _We are slaves of the law in order to be free._

 _Charming_ , Scorpius thought with a grimace.

But as much as Scorpius thought the password to be ominous, the gargoyle seemed to accept it as it swivelled around, revealing a flight of stairs. James and Fred went up with a sigh, apparently used to visiting the Headmistress's office, and Patricia followed, albeit more wary.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley," The Headmistress greeted sternly as they all filed in her office, "I should have known I'd see you so soon into the year."

"You'd miss us if we didn't intrude in your life regularly." Fred Weasley grinned as he and James plopped down on the two seats in front of the woman's desk. The two boys took the meaning of 'make yourselves at home' extremely literally, despite the common address having not been said. They were obviously at ease with the strict woman and Scorpius had no doubts that, like professor Longbottom, Headmistress McGonagall probably had a tight relation with their parents.

Not that it kept the two boys from fiddling with the hems of their robes nervously.

"Mrs. Selwyn," She continued with a short tilt of the head, ignoring James and Fred, before turning to Scorpius, "And congratulation on your sorting, Mr. Malfoy."

Scorpius answered the small nod with one of his own. He and Patricia were standing between the two chairs and professor Longbottom far behind them, against the door.

"Now the four of you know why you're here." The Headmistress said, her eyes lazily glancing at what looked like a report of the incident by professor Patil, "And I must say, I am heavily disappointed."

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Selwyn, what is the first rule of the Duelling Assembly?"

Well, that explained their high level duelling on the train, Scorpius realised. The three second years looked away, embarrassed. But the Headmistress was ruthless and she maintained her piercing glare on them until Patricia conceded.

"Not to duel outside Assembly hours unless our lives depend on it." She said hastily in a near whisper.

"Correct." The Headmistress nodded, pursing her lips, "The second?"

"Not to duel without supervision and where bystanders can get caught by stray spells."

"I take it you see where I'm going?"

The three second years nodded weakly.

The Headmistress sighed tiredly, leaning back on her chair. When she looked up again, it wasn't with that same look that had students flinch and turn in their homework early. It was a softer one, coated in disappointed but no less fond of the students in front of her.

"Do you know why I have allowed the creation of the Duelling Assembly?" She asked the three.

"To honour Dumbledore's Army?" James Potter ventured, glancing at professor Longbottom.

"To honour Dumbledore's Army's _goal_ , especially during the last year of the war." The Headmistress corrected, looking at all four of them in turns, "To ensure the students of Hogwarts could _protect_ themselves and fight _together_ in times of danger. Dumbledore's Army was created in fear of the upcoming war when Voldemort rose once more; it was created by some of _your_ parents in hopes that their classmates wouldn't be as helpless against Voldemort as others were. It was only a year before that that your father, Mr. Potter, had witnessed the death of the brightest student Hogwarts had to offer at the time, one even the Triwizard cup recognised as worthy."

James's eyes widened slightly before a shock of regret fell on his face. The three second years hung their heads in shame as they understood what she meant.

"In the school year of 1997-1998," The Headmistress continued, "The DA was a safe place for students running away from Death Eaters." Scorpius would have thought she was teaching class was it not for the pride in her voice and the knowing glances she sent professor Longbottom, "It was where students would go to get relief from crucios or if they had nervous breakdowns and needed a friend - It was a community of refugees who were seeking help. And when the DA fought back, it wasn't for power but for the right to live."

She allowed a long pause let the message sink in.

"Your improvised duel has not only broken the rules of the Duelling Assembly," she scolded sternly, "but also stomped all over the very foundations of the DA. Petty House rivalries are no reasons to point your wands at each other. You are lucky the worst injury was a minor burn - someone could have seriously been hurt."

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," She addressed, looking at the two boys suddenly and making them jump in their seats a little, "Your childish vendetta against Mrs. Selwyn and her friends has got to stop. Your little prank went too far and I ask that you apologise _in person_ to young Stephanie Willbee for the distress you caused her. I feel very distraught that students from my own House would behave with so little human decency."

"Yes professor." Fred and James chorused solemnly, biting their lips. The disappointment in the Headmistress's voice hurt them proportionally to how much respect they had for her and despite their carefree attitude in the beginning, Scorpius could see there was nothing two boys wouldn't do for the woman.

"Mrs. Selwyn," She continued, turning to the girl who cringed in anticipation to the coming lecture, "As one of our best students, I expected more of you that to stoop to their level and retaliate. You knew there was at least one professor on board, why didn't you sought them out instead?"

"I-I…" Patricia stammered, unable to meet her eyes, "I wasn't thinking. I apologise."

"Clearly." The Headmistress concluded, one eyebrow rising slightly in disapproval, "From what I understand, professor Patil has already given all of you two weeks of detentions and as such, I will not further revoke your membership to the Dueling Assembly."

The three second years shoulder sagged in relief. Scorpius hadn't even realised they had been holding their breaths the whole time.

"However, your actions were ridiculously short sighted and thus I will have your names disappear from the rankings this terms and reappear at the bottom the next."

"What?" Patricia squeaked, paling instantly.

"You can't-" Fred started before he was interrupted by the Headmistress.

"I can and I will. The three of you may be our most promising duellers but it seems the extra classes mean very little to you if you were willing to jeopardise them for some silly scuffle." She declared, allowing no room for arguments. It was clear the three of them had many objections to their punishments but they all understood there was no changing her mind. "How is your shoulder, Mr. Potter?"

"Patil took care of it m'am." The older Potter boy admitted grumpily.

" _Professor_ Patil." The elder witch corrected, "Well then, the three of you can head back to your dorms, I would like to speak to Mr. Malfoy in private."

"What about dinner?" Fred frowned.

"Dinner is almost over," she answered, "house elves will bring you a sandwich or something. Mrs. Filch and professor Artemis will take you back; they are already waiting outside."

The three second years wasted no time to leave after their curt dismissal. After a bit of shuffling, Scorpius found himself alone in the office with his new Head of House and the Headmistress. Professor Longbottom moved to stand directly behind the older woman.

Headmistress McGonagall gestured to seats in front of her desk.

"Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy."

 **OMAKE**

The two families gathered around the table of the Potters' dining room. Ron Weasley firmly placed the letter at the centre of the table but not before theatrically showing that it was still sealed.

"Place your bets now." He announced.

"Honestly Ronald!" Hermione Weasley huffed, "We're not going to bet on _our children_!"

"I put my money on Slytherin for Albus and Ravenclaw for Rose." Harry Potter said as he dropped a substantial amount of galleons on the table. The two families were both fairly rich now and when they gambled, they didn't do it for the laughs.

"I bet both will end up in Slytherin." Ginny Potter said as she added to the pile of money. A quick-quotes quill was taking note of the bets. Ron separated the money in two pools; one for Albus and one for Rose.

"Harry! Ginny!" Hermione chided, horrified at their blasé attitude, "They're _our kids_!"

"I think Albie will be in Ravenclaw because blue suits him!" Lily declared, placing her half-eaten lollipop on the table.

"I bet Rosie will be in Hufflepuff because Hufflepuff!" Hugo followed, almost laughing every time he said the word Hufflepuff. It was a wonder how after having known that word for four years already, the boy still couldn't say it with a straight face.

Oh well, another sticky lollipop was added to the pool.

"Lily, Hugo, honey, you shouldn't gamble." Hermione sighed, "You might not get your lollipops back."

"But Hufflepuff!" Hugo beamed, dissolving into laughter. Lily nodded, as if Hugo had just made a very compelling argument. Apparently lollipops had lost their value between a week before and that day. To be fair, the worth of lollipops fluctuated a lot on the Weasley stock exchange.

"Let them learn the harsh way." Ron shrugged, "I'm putting my money on Gryffindor for both."

"Ron!"

"Come on Hermione, we know you want in." Ginny grinned.

"Gin!"

"You do realise they won't stop pestering you until you bet?" Harry asked her.

Hermione glared at the Boy-Who-Lived and the latter maintained his gaze, not backing down. They stared at each other for a few minutes before Hermione deflated, muttering something along the lines of 'Albus in Gryffindor and Rosie in Ravenclaw' and throwing coins on the table.

Ron grinned.

"Drum rolls!" He called and Hugo and Lily started tapping their fake wands on the table in a messed up rhythm, giggling like mad.

Ron slid the letter towards him and slowly opened it as Lily and Hugo cackled louder.

"Dear mum and dad," Ron started reading, "Blah blah Hogwarts Express blah blah-"

"Don't skip half the letter!" Hermione frowned.

"blah blah," Ron continued, "Ah! Albus is in… Slytherin!"

Harry and Ginny high-fived, taking half of the loot and dividing it between them. They gave Lily her lollipop back, because she was Lily and Lily was their little princess.

"As for Rosie, she's in… In…" Ron frowned, "…Hufflepuff?"

The four adults stared at Hugo who just burst out laughing.

"Hufflepuff! Ha ha ha! _HUFFLEPUFF!_ "


	3. Leaving the nest for the snake hole

**Guest: thank you for reviewing! Rose's placement into Hufflepuff is not just due to her loyalty to Albus, even if it is an important factor. I don't really believe that Hufflepuffs are all about kindness; I mean Zacharias Smith was kind of a jackass in the books. Not that Rose is actually mean or anything, her short temper and agressivity are really the result of why she's in Hufflepuff in the first place. There will be repercussions due to her being in Hufflepuff, but not because the house doesn't suit her.**

* * *

When Scorpius entered his dorm, he was met with two different reactions. The first, from Joshua Cattermole, was a harsh glare. The second, from Gabriel and Robin, was a squeak and a step backwards.

Scorpius sighed and shook his head as he walked towards what he supposed was his bed, as his trunk and owl were resting on top of it. There were five beds in their circular room and Scorpius's was right next to the door. He was happy to see that his neighbour was none other than Robin; to be perfectly honest, he still had hope they could salvage some kind of friendship later in the year. It was always better than sleeping next to Joshua who looked like he was likely to stab him at night and blame it on his Death Eater father or something. As for Gabriel? Well, he didn't know much about the guy other than the fact that he was muggleborn and terrified of him.

If these three were going to be his roommates for the next seven years, life at Hogwarts was sure to be _fun_.

The young Malfoy didn't fail to notice that the fifth unclaimed bed was not devoid of a trunk either.

The silence was suffocating as he slowly unpacked his stuff. So far, suffocating seemed to be the only adjective worthy of Hogwarts. Between being lectured by the Headmistress, being glared at by everyone and simply being in the castle, the blond eleven year old just couldn't find room to breathe. He was trapped in here - he needed to _go_ , to escape. But… That didn't make any sense. Hogwarts was the safest place in England; everyone knew that.

It was another one of those thoughts that spurned on Scorpius without root. The students were all aware that something was going on but somehow, Scorpius _felt it_ in his bones.

 _ **BANG!**_

The door of their dorm slammed open, all four of the Gryffindor first years suddenly swivelling to see the new arrival.

In the doorframe was a very tall boy with a gaunt face and his translucent skin sticking close to his bones. His short black hair was shaggy and greyish at the sides and his black eyes were surrounded by dark purple rings. They boy's robes hung around him like Death's cloak and his glare rivalled that of Abraxas Malfoy's portrait in the Manor, and that was saying something.

The boy barely spared a glance at the others and headed straight for the bed in the middle, where his trunk awaited him. He clicked it opened in swift, angry movements and retrieved a vial of some kind of violet potion before drinking it all in one swing. He let go of the vial, allowing it to crash to pieces on the floor.

"Evanesco." He cast indifferently in a raspy, ash-like voice. With a few flicks of his wand, the glass vanished. The four other boys shared uneasy glances.

"What." The boy asked, biting at Robin.

Robin blinked a few times, leaning back out of reflex. However, he quickly shook himself out of it and stretched his hand out.

"R-Robin Thompson." He greeted, "Are you-"

"Ah. You must be one of my roommates." The boy concluded dismissively, "Longbottom said I should come up to _at least introduced myself_." He imitated Longbottom's tone as he spoke the last words, clearly thinking nothing of the idea, "Anyways, here I am. Hayden. Nice to meet you. Let's get along blah blah blah."

Robin's hand was left ignored.

"Er…" Gabriel hesitated, a bit thrown off by Hayden's rather… asocial attitude, "I'm Gabe Michaels."

"Pleasure." Hayden deadpanned.

"Josh Cattermole." Joshua introduced himself warily.

"And I'm-" Scorpius started.

"Scorpius Malfoy." Hayden finished boredly, "I know. The blond hair gave it away. That and Josh-over-there's glare. I suggest red hair of you're trying to be inconspicuous. Merlin knows you might blend in with all the Weasleys in this school."

Scorpius blinked a few times.

"Do you have something against Weasleys?" Gabriel asked naively.

"I have something against _people_ if you haven't noticed," Hayden snarked, "Now excuse me _roomies_ , I'm going to go sleep and if you make a single noise I will hex you all into next week."

Scorpius didn't know if he was thankful for Hayden's abrupt arrival or not but the second the boy collapsed on his bed and instantly fell asleep, the others had no choice but to follow suit. Hayden hadn't even gotten out of his school robes or made the effort of sliding under his covers. The boy had _literally_ just planked on his bed, face down, and fallen asleep.

The previous tension was replaced by an air of general confusion as to what in the name of Merlin just happened. Scorpius just shrugged it off and changed to his pyjamas. The roll-call had been done before he had reached Gryffindor tower and it wasn't like getting to know his roommates was an option given their already rocky relationship.

And thus thanks to Hayden, the first night went rather smoothly with as little awkward moments as possible.

The next morning, all four of them were glad to see they hadn't been hexed. As instructed, every student went down to the common room for 7:30 where professor Longbottom was already waiting for them. The man went through the list of Gryffindors quickly, sometimes repeating a name when a students wasn't awake enough to remember theirs, sometimes going back on a name he had inadvertently skipped.

Then, he gestured for everyone to follow him to the Dining Hall for breakfast and everyone did just that. A lot of students spoke to their Head of House as they walked and Scorpius felt like he had just intruded upon an old group of friends. Neville Longbottom was friendly and inviting when it came to chatter, in fact, the man even fell into easy teasing banter with some of the older students who knew him better. He did give disapproving looks and corrected factual errors at time but all of it was done in a light, jovial atmosphere.

It helped that none of the Gryffindors wanted to cross him. There was an unspoken rule in their House to respect the Head of House. He was a war hero and a genuinely good guy; it was considered a crime to piss him off on purpose.

When they reached the Hall, Scorpius noticed all three of the other Houses were already there, some of the students just settling in. His eyes immediately found Albus Potter who was chatting away happily and gesturing grandly as he did so with Ethan and some other Slytherins he didn't know. It was good that the black haired boy had integrated his House so well and Scorpius felt a bit proud at Ethan for enduring the boy. Merlin knew Ethan loved his silence.

Down at the Hufflepuff table, Rose was a bit more solemn but even she had found a friend. Scorpius recognised the girl whose name was just above his, Delphine Mackerbrough. They weren't as openly friendly as Albus but that was due to the lingering wall between two acquaintances who were still strangers to each other.

Scorpius on the other hand, found himself with absolutely no one to sit with.

It was just when the thought hit him that he felt someone grab him by the arm. He turned around to see Bridget Flore, the girl who had asked about his discrimination the night before. She had hooked her arm under his and was dragging him to the Gryffindor table, right in front of two older students.

"Come on, bro." She urged, "Still asleep?"

"What?" Scorpius asked eloquently, "Wait - Bro?"

"Oh right. You weren't there at the feast last night." Bridget suddenly recalled, "We're eating with our parents. Sit here."

Scorpius, confused, did as told. In front of him was Weasley boy 2, who looked suspicious of him but not openly, and another girl with bushy blond hair and maroon-green eyes.

"Parents…?" Scorpius repeated.

"A few years ago," the blond girl explained with an amused smile, "We started a system of House families in Gryffindor. Every fourth years have to take in one, two or three first years as their 'children'. In short, if you have any problem or question, come to us, that's what we're here for. I'm your mom, Trisha Valdez and this beauty queen is your dad,"

"Louis Weasley." The blond Weasley finished, brushing a lock of his hair away from his face. He didn't seem fazed by Trisha's nickname for him at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite, his smile was almost blinding.

"Ignore the sparkles." Trisha whispered conspiratorially, "He's part veela."

"What's a veela?" Bridget asked.

"Ooh! Our child's first question!" Trisha grinned excitedly, "Who takes it?"

"A veela is a humanoid creature that has a tendency to seduce members of its opposite sex." Louis explained, completely ignoring his House wife.

"Kinda like a succubus?" Bridget guessed.

"I'd say it's closer to muggle sirens." Louis corrected, "Toast?"

Scorpius blinked, realising that last question had been aimed to him. The other three had piled up their plates with food during the short conversation and Scorpius had yet to even take some orange juice or tea. He had been a bit taken aback at the friendliness of the scene to be honest. It wasn't everyday that people talked to him so openly on the first day - even Robin had been too shy to utter two words without his mother pressing him. Thinking of it, the scene reminded of Robin's mother, Sasha Thompson.

It was so different from his family back home that Scorpius had to take a moment to adapt to the atmosphere.

"Uh, sure." He answered, taking a slice from the plate Louis was offering him.

"So," Trisha resumed, "We already know your names and all but a little introduction can't hurt. You go blondie."

"You do realise there are three blonds in this family?" Louis reminded her with a raised eyebrow, "You included?"

"You go, mini-blondie."

"Okay…" Scorpius replied skeptically, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy, and I'm a… pure- _blond_ wizard."

Pause.

He had spoken so casually and with such a straight face that it took a while before any of the others caught on to his joke. Trisha and Louis's eyes widened fractionally. And then Bridget and Trisha burst out laughing, while Louis facepalmed, earning them curious looks from all four tables. It was too early for anyone to be having fits of laughter and certainly not around a Malfoy.

"My uncle makes enough puns in my life," Louis groaned, "Not my child too!"

"Merlin's pants!" Trisha managed between laughs, "Your sense of humour is _terrible_!"

"Ignore the lameness," Bridget echoed with a smirk, "He's part French."

Scorpius gave her an exaggerated betrayed look, offended. He was not lame! And his sense of humour was great! Sure, Ethan pretended not to know him every time he made a pun but Ethan wasn't exactly a reference for comedy.

He had to admit though, it was great to have another reaction to his puns than a disgusted face and a raised eyebrow.

"Hey!" Louis protested, "I resent that! _I'm_ part French!"

"Explains a lot." Trisha deadpanned before losing herself in another round of laughter with Bridget.

"How do you even know I'm part French, anyway?" Scorpius asked, curious and hoping his question would be heard over the laughter.

"It's the Black family motto." Bridget replied as she calmed herself down, "It's in French right? Or was that Italian? I can never tell the difference."

"No, it's French." Scorpius confirmed, "The Malfoys originated from there too, actually."

"You speak the language?" Louis asked as he gently shoved a still laughing Trisha away from him.

"Couramment." Scorpius smiled, answering in French, "J'espère seulement que mon accent ne heurte pas _l'ouïe_."

Louis slammed his head on the table.

"Do I really speak so badly?" Scorpius fake-pouted, not so well hiding his smirk.

Louis was by far the most welcoming Weasley Scorpius had met so far but considering under what circumstances he had met the others, it was no wonder. Another Gryffindor seating next to them, a friend of Trisha it seemed who was taking a pause from trying to break the ice with Robin and Tatiana, joked that the four of them actually _did_ look like a family. With Trisha and Bridget both having the same outgoing attitude and Louis and Scorpius both being, well, _sissies_ ('Don't hit me!' she cringed, 'I couldn't find a better word!'), they nailed the whole hereditary aspect of a family.

Scorpius did ask why Louis wasn't angry with him for hurting James and Louis only shrugged in reply, "Well, it was an accident, wasn't it?" From what he had said next, it seemed that even within the Potter-Weasley family, James and Fred were known to take it too far and never admit their wrongs; and as for Rose, she did have a tendency to be way overprotective when it came to family.

Louis and his sisters Dominique and Victoire didn't see their cousins that much compared to the others since they had lived in France for quite a while. Sure, if James was hanging to life by a thread, they'd cross continents and fight the king of wizard Hell to save him; but they wanted nothing to do with his pride. They had just enough distance to admit their cousins' shortcomings and none of them lacked the bravery to go against them, if need be.

The makeshift family continued talking around breakfast until their Head of House came around to hand them their timetables. Trisha and Louis gave them a brief rundown of each subject and their teacher before accompanying them back to the common room to get their stuff. For some reason, the teachers had encouraged students to travel in packs, much to Scorpius's displeasure. Scorpius had always liked doing his own thing, walking around at his own pace and not having to broadcast where he was going all the time.

However, due to the circumstances, Scorpius found himself walking to Potions with Bridget, Robin and Tatiana. Bridget and Tatiana walked between the two boys as Robin kept edging further and further away from his roommate. The young Malfoy was starting to think that girls were wired to be much, much braver than boys but that wasn't fair to Robin. Bridget was Bridget and he knew Tatiana from all those pureblood dinner parties.

Once they reached the classroom, Scorpius and Bridget sat somewhere at the back, watching as groups of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs filed inside right after them.

The Potions classroom was a far cry from the traditional ones. Instead of having tables arranged in rows, the class looked more like an artisan's workshop with counters huddled together in packs of two to four and cauldrons already set next to each. The air was saturated with the smell of spices and familiar potions and the shelves filled with the strangest of ingredients. Scorpius briefly wondered what one could do with bottled gnome toenails.

Professor Slughorn hobbled into the classroom right after the last student had taken his seat. Age was catching up to him quickly, unfortunately, and the old man struggled to make it to the front.

"Hello students." Professor Slughorn croaked, patting his own hip as if trying to make it work correctly, "As you might have - Ack! As you might have known, I am Horace Slughorn, your Potions… professor…" The old wizard trailed off, his head slowly falling asleep before snapping to attention once more, "I am sure many of you will become promising students," the man's greying eyes flitted almost imperceptibly towards a girl in the front row, with a bush of red hair, an eager quill in her hand and the textbook already opened in front of her, "but I'm afraid we will have to start at the basics."

"Does anyone know why we brew potions in cauldrons?"

The question was like a referee's whistle at the start of a quidditch match. As soon as the words were out, Rose's hand shot up. Scorpius noticed the girl sitting next to her, Delphine, jumping in her seat at the sudden movement.

Professor Slughorn beamed at the girl, "Ah, Mrs. Weasley! I should have known you'd be just as brilliant as your mother. Go ahead."

"There are many reasons for the use of a cauldron," the girl started, adopting the tone of a professor, albeit one much more awake than their Potions master, "The first is the dimension. The width of the cauldron enables to brew larger quantities which is a must even when one only wants a vial or two. Larger proportions make up for all the infinitely small measure mistakes made by the wizard due to the imperfect precision of our spells and tools. Secondly, the shape of the cauldron makes it not only easy to hang over a fire but also-"

Scorpius, like all the other students, blocked her out. He couldn't see her face from his seat, but he could guess she was preening and blushing under the professor's excited nods and smiles. The young Malfoy was half tempted to tell her that the old wizard was not so much interested in what she was saying but rather in who she was - he knew what kind of wizard professor Slughorn was, network fanatics like him were not uncommon in high society.

Bridget sighed, rolling her eyes as Rose entered another tangent that showed just how much extra reading she had done before term.

"And what… about… the different containers for potions? Anyone - Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Traditionally, we distinguish four types of containers: vials, beakers, flasks and funnels. Each have at least a dozen of variation depending on the oxydation, volume and other parameters needed as well as whether or not they are to be used as base, ingredient or otherwise in the making of another potion. The vials are used to-"

Two Hufflepuff boys in front of Bridget and Scorpius snickered at something. Scorpius glanced at the Potions Master's shelves. There were hundreds of potions stocked there in small vials - all too small to be used effectively, but big enough to provide a sample.

Many people thought potions wasn't a true magical art. The only magic needed was often to stir or to heat up at a correct temperature; actions that even muggles could do with the right equipment. Nevertheless, looking at all those samples, Scorpius could see where the magic applied. Each potion's presence was nothing less than mesmerising.

One vial was filled with a clear liquid, in which tiny scales of azure, indigo and violet danced in harmony without any incentive. Another contained a bright red potion that contracted at regular intervals, like a heart pumping blood through veins.

Potions, like magic, were alive. If the idea wasn't so ridiculous, Scorpius would even have said that they breathed. It was obvious that the air, the very space around potions wasn't left unaffected by them. _How_ the liquid influenced their atmosphere, Scorpius had no idea. But they _did_ \- he couldn't tell how he knew but they _did_.

"-fety and precautions. Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

" _Evanesco_ seems like the first failsafe to know before starting brewing potions." Rose answered smugly, her voice glowing with pride, " _Contineo_ for the more advanced as it might help salvage the potion. _Impervius_ is also-"

Scorpius wondered if Rose even realised how arrogant she sounded. He had rarely heard anyone so blatantly showing off and Scorpius had been to his fair share of pureblood dinner parties. Already he could feel the tension in the classroom as other students either envied or mocked her endless knowledge. Scorpius couldn't blame them; he himself had half a mind to strangle her just so she would stop talking. It was never a smart thing to display one's strength so obviously.

"Very good!" The Potions master was saying, "Very, very good indeed, Mrs. Weasley. I wonder if I have anything left to teach a brilliant witch like you! Does anyone perhaps know of any potion that should not be brewed in a cauldr - Well, Mrs. Weasley, do tell which one and why, if you know."

Rose let her hand down as she started speaking again. Over at the other tables, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs alike started doodling and exchanging notes. Scorpius nearly groaned in exasperation.

"The lung clearing potion." Rose told him, "It cannot come in contact with air until it's ingested."

"Doesn't mean you can't brew it in a cauldron." Scorpius found himself saying just for the sake of contradicting Rose. At the sound of his voice, a few students perked up - not because of some kind of affection for Scorpius but because it seemed like someone was finally going to tell that insufferable know-it-all to shut up.

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Slughorn asked, turning to Scorpius. The young Malfoy could see the old wizard was just being polite; his family's reputation wasn't at its best at the moment and until Scorpius proved himself to be exceptional, professor Slughorn likely wasn't going to spare him a smile.

Scorpius looked around the room hesitantly before launching into his own explanation, "Well, I'm no expert on charms - I mean, I'm just a first year - but I do know for a fact the bubble-head charm and selective charms such as age lines, or _Cave inimicum,_ exist. This means that magic is not only ably to contain air but also to differentiate it from other things and select among those which ones should or should not penetrate a shield. I'm pretty sure there exists a spell that could protect the top of a cauldron from air without preventing other ingredients, tools or spells to reach the potion in making."

"Oh really?" Rose challenged, "Name _one_."

"Sorry Weasley, _I_ don't read libraries in advance to impress my classmates." Scorpius scowled. A small chorus of ' _ooh_ ' blew in the classroom and Rose flushed in anger.

"You're just speculating without any real knowledge," she huffed.

"You just can't admit you're wrong." Scorpius countered.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Weasley is right," professor Slughorn sighed, "Magic isn't all powerful; it has its limits as well, Mr. Malfoy. In the case of a lung-clearing potion, it is essential to brew it directly in a double-balloon with sealed entrances."

Of course the old wizard would take Rose's side.

"What about sceptic fields?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair with a defiant glare towards the teacher, "Healers use them to prevent infection while operating on someone. They literally only keep bacteria away. If one were just to incorporate a reversed bubble-head charm to the field, then you'd have the perfect shield for your cauldron. It's a lot less expensive and delicate than using a double-balloon with sealed entrances."

"Right, because creating a whole new spell is _sooo_ much easier." Rose scoffed.

"I'm talking about _modifying_ one," Scorpius retorted, "and all it takes is the time and effort of a _single person_ and then everyone can use whenever, wherever and _without cost._ It's a sound investment, something you'd understand if you started thinking instead of just regurgitating information from your books."

Rose's mouth gaped in outrage.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Slughorn warned, before dissolving into coughs.

"Bro, you already have _two weeks_ of detention," Bridget reminded him just loud enough for him to hear, "do you _have_ to insult Rose Weasley on top of showing her wrong?"

Scorpius shrugged. He had no patience for idiots.

"Besides," Scorpius continued dismissively, "for all I know, such a spell could already exist. Just because Potions Masters do not seem to use it frequently does not mean that experts in other areas of magic don't either. Not only do they sometimes brew potions as well but that kind of spell could have multiple uses."

"Whether or not that spell exists is not the question here, Mr. Malfoy." Professor Slughorn told him sternly, "Potion brewing is an art that resides… outside… of spell casting. You are here to learn about how to handle the glassware, label potions correctly and the different ways to process various ingredients before adding them to your cauldron. Do not be contr - Ack! Contrary… just for the sake of being contrary, Mr. Malfoy. Now, let's resume the lesson."

Scorpius caught Rose Weasley sticking out her tongue to him and Scorpius found nothing better to do than return the gesture.

"Oh, mature," Bridget rolled her eyes, "real mature, bro."

The young Malfoy didn't even deign reply to his mock sister. He had been right and he knew it; professor Slughorn and Rose were just too prideful to concede. The former had in particular hidden behind academic technicalities to avoid losing face in front of his students. If that was what education at Hogwarts was amounting to, Scorpius had the feeling professor Slughorn was not going to be last one he would antagonise.

The rest of the hour was spent gazing at more samples on the shelves. Learning the names of various tools was useful and all but vocabulary was not what Scorpius lacked. Besides, while he hadn't memorised them like Rose, Scorpius _had_ read his textbook in advance. In his defence, they were a lot more interesting than they looked and there wasn't much else to do in the manor.

What they were going to learn at Hogwarts was fascinating. How they were going to learn it on the other hand?

It was only the first day so Scorpius hadn't a lot to go on. After potions, they had had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins. While Scorpius wanted nothing more than to catch up with Ethan who had taken the seat next to his, the young Malfoy knew better than to misbehave in Mme. Blishwick's class. The witch had the decency to pretend he didn't exist instead of glaring at him; being as well-behaved and discreet as a trashcan in the corner of a room was the least he could do.

After lunch came History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs again, a great subject… if only it hadn't been a rehash of whatever was in the textbook. The professor for the subject, Mr. Fawcet, was young, inexperienced and way too nervous. Even Rose Weasley kept a very skeptical face for the whole duration of the hour. The Hufflepuff corrected his every slip and oversight; Scorpius and Bridget kept a tally.

Then, it was time for Magical Theory with the Ravenclaws. It was by far the most frustrating subject for Scorpius - everything was just so intuitive he believed it ought to have been called common sense.

By the end of that hour, Scorpius had almost been so bored that he had been looking forward to detention with professor Patil.

James, Fred and Patricia were already there when Scorpius reached the classroom. The three of them had started writing lines, all sitting at the front of row. In fact, Patricia was sandwiched by the two Gryffindor and not by choice if the grumpy frowns were any indication. At least they were focused on their task.

Scorpius greeted Mrs. Patil as he walked in. The professor was standing in front of her desk, leaning slightly on its edge with her arms and legs crossed. The regular ticking of the clock was all that filled the silence.

"What should I write?" He asked her.

The indian witch didn't answer straight away. Instead she looked at Scorpius as if it was the first time she saw him, assessing him with narrowed eyes. Immediately, Scorpius tried to go over what he had eaten at lunch to try to find out what must have been sticking to his face to earn that look. Then, he realised how ridiculous he was being. Scorpius always made sure his appearance was impeccable when he passed by a reflective surface.

Professor Patil seemed to be weighing something on her mind, considering a thought or another.

"Write what's on the board," she finally decided, keeping her eyes on him, "enough times to fill this much parchment." She handed him the parchment in question, "Unless you can think of a more productive way to spend this hour?"

Scorpius frowned slightly at her question. What was he supposed to answer to that? If it was a matter of productivity, then obviously there were thousands of things he'd rather do. But the witch was expecting a particular answer and Scorpius had absolutely no clue as to what that was.

Professor Patil seemed to understand his silence. "Sit next to Mr. Potter," she said.

* * *

The next few days were rather repetitive in Scorpius's opinion. He quickly found which classes he liked and which classes he loathed. The classes he shared with Hufflepuffs, Potions and History of Magic, quickly became showdowns against Rose Weasley. He truly cared for neither subject, or at least not the material they were studying, but he was damned if he allowed the young Weasley girl to think she was better than everyone else. Not only that but forcing Slughorn to give him good marks despite his clear dislike for Scorpius was oddly satisfying. So far, Scorpius owned Rose in Potions and she demolished him in History of Magic.

With the Slytherins, Scorpius had Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. With the strict rules enforced on Hogwarts, Herbology and Charms classes were the only times he could actually talk to Ethan. He paid little attention to the classes themselves but found no problem doing the work on time or understanding the material. They weren't actually casting any charms or doing any gardening yet; basic theory came first.

Scorpius had yet to talk to Albus; the Potter boy always sat next to another Slytherin as Ethan joined Scorpius. Besides, Scorpius couldn't find a reason to talk to him even though he found himself wanting to. All he knew was that Ethan had already sucked his pocket money to the last knut, as well as the savings of half the Slytherins. At least now they knew better than to gamble against him.

Astronomy with the Ravenclaws was quickly becoming Scorpius's favourite class. He loved the idea of having class outside, at night, where they could gaze at the beautiful liquorice black sky and its stars powdered all across. The air was sometimes a bit chilly but the opportunity to study burning giants from far away, floating inside the vast universe they were part of, largely made up for it. Xylomancy on the other hand, was a joke. There were rumours about the Divination elective in third year but Xylomancy was like a prelude to bullcrap. Magical Theory wasn't so much better and Transfiguration was… hard to describe.

According to Scorpius, Transfiguration was a very interesting subject and he didn't say so to please the professor. The young Malfoy had always wondered how matter could shift and shape itself so freely and his Transfiguration textbook had not been the first he had read on the subject. Sure, like in every class, they were going over the basics and there was nothing worth taking note of, but Scorpius had high expectations for what was going to follow.

What impeded his image of the class was none other than Edgar Artemis, the new Transfiguration professor.

At first, it had just been another one of those gut feelings he kept having. _There was something wrong with professor Artemis_ , his mind had told him, _he was not what he seemed._ And yet Scorpius didn't get the same twisted feeling from the man as he did from Hogwarts. Whatever was off about the teacher didn't actually feel _off_ but rather…

Scorpius had nearly torn his hair trying to find the right word. There wasn't any to accurately describe it.

Professor Artemis was both right and wrong, both corrupted and particularly pure.

But what really gave it away was how he had reacted to Scorpius looking at him. The young Malfoy had never been one to hide his feelings towards people. He was used to a dishonest crowd but there was no need for politics in Hogwarts. As such, when Scorpius narrowed his eyes at the new teacher or when he questioned his background, he didn't do it behind the man's back.

The first time Scorpius had been caught staring, professor Artemis blanched.

From then on, Scorpius noticed the man was much more careful with his facade. Ironically, his every movement was too controlled, too precise, his mask too perfect to be real. Professor Artemis was a rather jovial for a man who looked like he had been born too old for games. He joked and humoured students in their antics when it wasn't detrimental to learning and he wasn't even a good actor.

To the man's credit, his tip-toeing around Scorpius seemed to come solely from the fact that the young Gryffindor was onto something. He had by far the most bipolar, conflicted attitude toward Scorpius that the pure-blood had ever seen. There were days where he acted like a doting father towards him, and days where he acted like a cold stranger. It was hilariously awkward and Scorpius was reminded of a teenage boy with a crying woman on his hands. Professor Artemis was completely clueless with what to do with the Malfoy Heir.

The Hogwarts lockdown. The Sorting Hat's song. The ghosts. Professor Artemis.

Something big was coming.

Suddenly, everything seemed so small. His competition with Rose, his pretend family, his grades, Ethan, Albus, Robin, James, his father, his life…

"Scorpius?"

Scorpius turned to see Bridget who was looking at him worriedly. They were in the Dinning Hall where the young Malfoy had lost himself in his thought.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Scorpius, calm down." Bridget told him, frowning, "Is something wrong?"

"Calm down…?" Scorpius repeated. He had been mulling over things the whole time; it was hard to do any calmer he thought. Plus, he was always calm.

"I think you're hyperventilating or something." Bridget informed him, worry melting into confusion.

Scorpius blinked. He was breathing harder and his heart was thumping like mad. That… had never happened before. The first year focused on getting his body back to a normal rhythm which he managed but not without a string of unease left lingering behind. That hadn't been like him. Was Hogwarts maybe affecting him somehow? The thought was worrisome but rather curious. Scorpius wasn't the only pure-blood wizard in the school, nor was he in any way different from other students - Why would he be sensitive to something others weren't?

"Sorry," Scorpius apologised, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know why I suddenly felt overwhelmed."

He looked around to see that no one was paying attention to them. It was dinner time and all the students present were a whole lot more focused on food than on a first year having a tiny panic attack. Most of the other Gryffindors were still a bit reluctant around Scorpius so Bridget was the only one eating with him anyways. Nonetheless, they all ate and chatted happily like nothing was wrong.

"Go to Mme. Longbottom if it happens again," Bridget advised, "mental health is no joke."

Scorpius nodded, wanting to let the matter slide. His gut feelings were doing nothing but making him more distraught at the moment and if it were that there really was a tidal wave coming for the wizarding world anytime soon, Scorpius doubted there was anything he could do about it anyway.

"I was wondering," Scorpius started, piking his sister's interest, "If you noticed anything weird about the year so far."

"Apart from the whole teacher paranoia thing?" She asked, continuing when Scorpius noticed, "As a matter of fact, I did."

Scorpius's eyes widened, "Really?"

"Yeah!" Bridget grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "You too?"

"Of course!" Scorpius smiled, feeling relieved. It was always good to know one wasn't imagining things.

"Is it about professor Artemis/Hayden?" They both asked at the same time.

Pause.

"What do you mean professor Artemis?" Bridget asked, frowning.

"What do _you_ mean Hayden?" Scorpius replied, leaning back.

"Well, he's never there," Bridget pointed out, "he's like skipping half the classes and the teachers don't say anything. He's never even there during roll-call and I doubt he's joining you in detention unless you've been holding back on me."

"Huh." Scorpius blinked.

It was actually completely true. Scorpius never really minded others' businesses but it was true he couldn't recall seeing the walking scowl anywhere in the recent past. In fact, he could hardly remember the last time had seen the boy in the dorms. Hayden wasn't even at the Dining Hall and this was their only hour to eat.

Did Hayden even attend Hogwarts? Had Longbottom not repeated his name a few times during the Sorting, Scorpius would have started doubting the staff was even aware of his presence. He did look a bit haggard, perhaps he was only taking refuge in the castle for some reason?

"Your turn." Bridget decided, "What was that about professor Artemis?"

"He's hiding something." Scorpius told her seriously, "but not like the rest of the staff. He's hiding something about himself. I think he might be _impersonating_ Edgar Artemis."

Bridget paled. "Oh," She said in a small voice, "When you say weird, you don't half-ass it, do you?"

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked, confused at her reaction.

So far, Bridget had been very Gryffindor about everything. She wasn't scared of much; Hell, she wasn't even scared of befriending a boy whose parents had done unspeakable things to her kind. It was quite the opposite actually, Bridget actively sought out danger and excitement. Anything that hooked her curiosity had her on her feet faster than a snitch. It was strange to think a speculation was enough to throw her off.

"You're saying that there might be an _unknown_ man with _unknown_ intentions living under the _same_ roof as us." Bridget rephrased, emphasising on a few words, "Coincidentally, the teachers are _terrified_ of something and _frantically_ trying to keep us _away_ from whatever that is. I don't know much in about the wizard world but amongst muggles, knowing there might be a rapist or a murdered in a school is not exactly reassuring and identity theft is never a good sign."

"But Hayden's situation isn't so much better." Scorpius argued, "I mean, he's off Merlin knows where ninety percent of the time and the staff, powerful witches and wizards, just let him do whatever. It is much more likely that he managed to confound them or something than that they gave him unlimited access to the school and a free pass for every class."

"But he's just eleven!" Bridget protested, "I was thinking he had a secret girlfriend or something!"

"Harry Potter was eleven when he first defeated Voldemort voluntarily. Merlin was said to be eight when he united the wizards of England in a single council. Rowena Ravenclaw was thirteen when she planned the attack against the Sorcerers' prison." Scorpius recited, recalling all the legends magical children were fed at bed time.

Bridget's eyes widened, "Seriously?" She gaped, "Then you're right." She said, "Also, let's not tell anyone."

"I have nothing against the idea but you're going to have to explain that one." Scorpius deadpanned.

"Think about it." Bridget hissed, leaning towards him conspiratorially, "If we were to tell a teacher of our speculations, won't they just deal with it and cover whatever it was? We'll never know what happened!"

Scorpius rolled his eyes, "So satisfying your curiosity takes precedence over everyone's safety? That's nice to know."

Bridget grinned sheepishly, "No…?"

"We can't tell anyone because we have no proof." Scorpius told her, "I doubt they would believe wild hypothesises from two first years. In fact, we don't even know what to denounce them for or if there is anything to denounce at all. We should consolidate out assumptions before anything else."

"You don't speak like an eleven year old." Bridget grimaced.

"The joys of pure-blood education." Scorpius sighed.

"Isn't Fred Weasley a pure-blood?" Bridget asked as the aforementioned red head told a joke with his mouth full of chicken a few seats away. Fred Weasley then burped and gave the punchline, followed by a string of grammatically incorrect sentences.

"You know what I mean." Scorpius scowled as he slid his own a plate away from him, disgusted.

Their conversation was interrupted when the amplified sound of a tomato bursting against a hard surface resonated in the Hall. Then came the screeches of benches being pushed back, scratching the floor shrilly, and a wave of swears and groans followed. It wasn't long before the smell hit too, and it wasn't a very pleasant one.

Scorpius turned to see where the noise was coming from and was met with a picture of the Slytherin table encased in some kind of muddy green slime. The lot of them looked like birds emerging from an oil spill as they staggered away from their table, rigid like scarecrows. A fifth year was handing Ethan a few knuts.

They weren't panicking at all, except for a few first years. Most of them just looked half-murderous, half-disgusted actually, as if the situation was common.

"Sick!" One of them cried.

"This takes forever to come off!" A girl complained, holding the hem of her robes like it was a stinky sock.

But it was a familiar shrill voice that offered to explain.

"POTTER!" Patricia Selwyn shrieked.

Snickers ran across the Gryffindor table but quite a few of the lions weren't joining in, Scorpius being one of them. The war between Slytherin and Gryffindor was clearly not as spread as the stories made it seem. Scorpius noticed most of the older students as well as the more studious ones were just as tired of this bullying as the Slytherins. Perhaps the mischievous second years' pranks had been funny the first few times, but by now, others were starting to see that it was more akin to targeted harassment.

Besides, as Longbottom had said, their actions reflected on the whole House. There was no doubt that the Gryffindors' most unsavoury reputations were being propagated by students like them. Had Scorpius been in Slytherin, he would have hated listening to one of his Housemate spouting pure-blood propaganda. In Gryffindor, it was hypocritical heroism.

Slytherin was always thought to be the cold House, the one where students only saw each other as steps in the staircase of life. However, looking at the Slytherins helping each other wipe off the slime and comforting the younger students who had just washed their hair the night before, Scorpius envied their closeness. Gryffindor was nothing like the rumours, at least not anymore. The House was divided and the students huddled in small groups. Between those willing or unwilling to overlook the Malfoys' history, those believing Slytherins deserved constant pranking, those looking down on House pride, those who flocked around Weasleys and Potters, those who hated those families for it…

The gold was losing its shine.

"Seriously?" A Slytherin suddenly said loudly, looking completely baffled. While Scorpius had been lost in though again, the whole slime-covered table had turned to a single Slytherin, a first year, Albus of course.

Scorpius frowned. The younger Potter had a bruise on his forehead and a bandage around his left hand. He had noticed small injuries during the classes they shared and Scorpius was starting to believe that their origins were rather shady. Did his older brother…?

"Yeah." The young boy nodded tiredly, speaking loud enough for all his Housemates to hear, "Just rub an owl feather on the slime and then use lemon juice to wash it off. If it doesn't come straight off, eat a blueberry muffin or a caramel scone."

"We've been dealing with this crap for a whole year," A Slytherin prefect laugh, "And that was the solution? If only we'd -"

 _ **Slam!**_

"Al, what the Hell!?" James shouted, abruptly standing from the Gryffindor table, slamming his hands on it. Albus cringed.

The whole Hall fell silent. Even the few staff members eating at the same time as them were looking at the situation warily. They were in a delicate situation, Scorpius realised. Teachers were in no position to interrupt family affairs, but they couldn't just let it escalate. All the same, taking one brother's side over the other was simply unethical. The prank itself was routine, it was the backslash they hadn't predicted.

"You can't just give our tricks away like that!" James continued, outraged, "You're such a snitch! We trusted you with that information you - you - _you traitor!_ "

A wind of hurt flashed across Albus's face and his green eyes immediately fled the confrontation.

"James!"

This time, the cry of indignation had come from Rose. The girl looked genuinely terrified as her eyes flickered between the two Potters. She probably hadn't even realised she had stood up as well, sticking out between the whole Slytherin table and James Potter, right in the middle of the conflict.

No one dared to interrupt. It wasn't their place and whatever was going on, it was obviously personal.

"Don't stop me, Rose." James growled, earning approving nods from Fred who was sitting next to him, arms crossed, and glare set on Albus, "Albus clearly doesn't care about family anymore! In fact, he never did! Look at all the injuries he got just because he doesn't want to wear his glasses, Rosie." He spat, "He's downright ashamed of looking like dad, he always was."

"That's not true!" Rose denied frantically, facing James, "Albus doesn't mean it like that! You know him - he doesn't like conflict, surely Albus would never betray you on purpose. He cares about us, about you; Albus isn't choosing Slytherin over his family… He wouldn't that." Then, the girl turned to Albus, a hopeful smile on her face.

"Right?" She asked.

But Albus never confirmed her words. The silence in the Hall was crushing as Rose held her gaze, desperately waiting for her cousin to nod or smile or _say something_ before her smile fell completely and as Albus stood there, covered in slime, his teeth clenched, his fists balled, his eyes full of unspeakable emotions and the balance of his family, as well as Rose's hopes and James's rage, in his hands.

"Albus?" Rose asked again, her voice so small Scorpius couldn't recognise the talking encyclopaedia in her. The lights in the Hall had dimmed and a small breeze was picking up.

It was strange how just minutes before, Scorpius had been thinking about much more pressing matters. There were urgent problems to solve, dangers lurking about and mysteries in copious amounts. And yet the young Malfoy was mesmerised by the unimportant scene unfolding in front of him. The three of them - Albus, Rose and James - were so open about their feelings it was uncanny. Did they not realise they had an audience? Scorpius never blew up; there was no one in his life he was willing to lose his dignity over but that didn't seem to be their case. Their little family drama was quickly making everyone uncomfortable.

At least _they_ had family drama, Scorpius thought bitterly. He caught himself before the thought went any further - it was ungrateful of him. Scorpius had two loving grandparents and his Father had never mistreated him in any way. They didn't have drama because their communication was much more efficient.

Or non-existent for some.

Scorpius felt a piece of parchment weigh in his pocket. It was a simple letter he had received from his grandmother that very morning. It was the kind of letter Malfoys were not expected to write; the kind full of kisses and motherly smothering. In it, his grandmother gave him an update of home where his father was still throwing his whole life into work, his grandmother still confined to her room because of health problems and his grandfather successfully duped into thinking Scorpius was in Slytherin.

How could the Malfoys have any drama? Their whole dynamic was based on lies and omissions that guaranteed that everyone was on the same foot - even if only to pretend.

James Potter didn't known how lucky he was to have a brother like Albus. Albus hadn't joined Slytherin to become a manipulating liar; he had done so to finally be honest with himself and others. Albus didn't want to deceive his family, how could James not see that? How could James try to force Albus in a mould that wasn't his? Older brothers weren't supposed to scorn their younger siblings for being different.

Older brothers weren't supposed to take their family for granted.

"We should go wash the slime off before it hardens." Albus finally said, raising his head slowly. He was speaking to the Slytherins but his eyes met his brother's instead and the whole Hall was taken aback by what it saw in them. Albus's gaze was cold, full of the very same anger that was bubbling up inside Scorpius, and determined.

The youngest Potter grabbed his bag started walking down the Slytherin table, his Housemates joining after him to head back to the dungeons. His cousin and brother didn't move, the implication of his dismissal hitting them head on. A few others were gaping too; it wasn't everyday one got to see a shy first year standing his ground renouncing his family in its face.

Besides, from an outside point of view, the Slytherins were not trudging away covered in slime and shame. It looked more like a procession, a parade or even an army with Albus Potter at its head.

He didn't even spare a glance at Rose, who looked like the world had just crumbled to pieces.


	4. The dangers of magic

The events in the Great Hall had quickly spread amongst teachers and students alike. Even those who had been busy during the confrontation and even those who wanted nothing to do with gossip were soon made aware of it.

The Potters' fight wasn't without consequence. The atmosphere within Hogwarts was further repressed, the air cold and the students solemn. It wasn't that all the cheer had died; friends still laughed and teased, siblings still bickered and rivals still competed. However whenever the two brothers crossed path, everyone started walking on ice, holding onto their breath as if the softest of winds would unleash hydras and dragons on the school.

Rose Weasley was the first to recover. Instead of hanging out with Albus, she hung out with Fred but even that was just a small change in her everyday life. With the current rules, there wasn't much time to spend with other Houses. She had moped for a while but it didn't take two days for the young red head to resume her annoying soliloquies in class. Besides, she had never truly stopped biting at Scorpius's arguments at every opportunity and the latter considered that as proof that she wasn't as fragile as her family seemed to think.

James and Fred had become oddly protective of the girl. Whenever James and Albus did actually yell at each other instead of their usual silent war, Rose was always one of the first points James made.

It didn't help that the pranks on the Slytherin House multiplied exponentially.

But all that had nothing to do with Scorpius.

Today, the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins were going to learn their first spell. It was their first time performing voluntary magic as the laws for Underage magic were quite strict in England and none of them could hide how giddy they were about it. Scorpius had dreamt of casting spells before he had even learnt to walk. Some students were a bit scared but Scorpius had no reason to be. He was quite smart and he had grown up surrounded magic.

Also, rumours said Rose had managed on her first try earlier that morning, lifting four tables in the air instead of her feather.

"Quills and wands out." Professor Patil instructed, raising her own as an example.

The students didn't need to be told twice. Scorpius took out the wand he had bought a few weeks before, having already memorised its every ring and indentation. It was ten inches long and of a dull dark brown wood. Between its hilt and its tip, a beige owl was spreading its wings, giving it the appearance of a small sword. Scorpius had always wondered why his wand had such a peculiar shape. It was well known that wands chose their owners by now.

 _The shop was in a whole different world, Scorpius thought as he stepped in. He had barely made it past the threshold when the buzzing and growling of the crowd came to an abrupt stop and the harsh sun was replaced by fresh light and soft particles of dust. The door closed behind him with the slightest chime of a bell and Scorpius immediately revelled in the scent of old parchment and antique wood._

 _He carefully stepped forwards, his head constantly turning around, trying to catch every detail of the shop. The floor under his feet creaked as he craned his neck to see the ceiling. Ollivander's wasn't just a shop; it was a relic._

 _If it hadn't been so strange, Scorpius would have closed his eyes and pretended time was coming to a stop. He felt at peace in the old shop, surrounded by History, by the memories of nervous first years getting their first wands. This place was pure, innocent; like unicorn forests or merman lakes, it was unmarred by human greed and corruption. It was where great friendships between wizards and wands were forged, where masterpieces of nature and magic were eagerly waiting to leave the nest and wander into the world._

 _Curious glassware and contraptions on the shelves piqued Scorpius's interest. He had never seen wands being made before and he could only let his imagination guess what role each of them played in the craft. They were a bit dusty, having not been used in a while, but that only made them so much more interesting. Objects that had lived through time always had exciting stories. It was a pity they couldn't talk._

" _Ahem."_

 _Scorpius startled and swivelled around suddenly. A middle aged man was at the counter, his head resting on his hand and his elbow propped in front of him. He had strong arms, a strong jaw and broad shoulders, marks of the accomplished blacksmith he was without doubt. The man, Ollivander's apprentice, had a small smirk tugging at his lips as his blue eyes remained focused on Scorpius._

 _How long had he been there? How long had Scorpius been day dreaming this time?_

" _Sorry," Scorpius apologised politely with a slight bow, "I hadn't noticed you."_

" _Your friend told us you were coming." The man said, "Something you apparently told him to do."_

 _Scorpius stiffened. "I am aware of Mr. Ollivanders' History with my family," he said, "and while it is not in my habit to bend to accommodate for other's feelings, I have far too much respect for the man to bring back painful reminders of what my father and grandparents have put him through."_

 _Scorpius glanced back at the windows of the shop where he could see Ethan and the Thompsons waiting for him. Robin and Ethan had gone first to get their wands and they were both examining their new acquisition, leaning back on the shop's windows. Scorpius had almost expected the view to be blank or at least, devoid of people; but no. Diagon Alley was bursting with life outside, people crowding and colours saturating the path._

" _Master appreciates the sentiment," the man smiled, straightening himself, "but please do not be so polite with me. If anything, your warning shows I can't let prejudice cloud my judgement. So, need a wand?"_

" _Er… Yes?" Scorpius replied._

" _Right," the man said, handing him a piece of paper. "Fill this in," he instructed._

"'What kind of seductress are you?' _" Scorpius read, before frowning, "This is a quiz from an old Witch Weekly."_

" _I'm afraid I do not have Master's skills in reading people," the man shrugged, "and this will be quicker than randomly trying wands. As fun as that sounds, I do not fancy putting them all back into their respective shoe bo - ahem, their respective cases afterwards."_

 _Scorpius gave him one last skeptical look before grabbing the quill he was presented with._

 _Using the counter as a table, Scorpius tried answering the questions to the best of his abilities. Some of them baffled him completely (Which charms do you use during your time of the month?) but Scorpius didn't let that deter him. He managed to make sense of most of them through his extensive general knowledge and his decent latin and, much to his mortification, tried to imagine himself in those situations._

 _By the end, Scorpius was blushing a bit and Ollivanders' s apprentice was trying hard not to laugh._

 _Scorpius handed the quiz back and the man crumpled it and threw it in the trash._

" _Let's see what we have for you," he decided, stretching his arms._

" _You didn't even read my answers," Scorpius told him, a bit irritated, "What was that for?"_

 _The man smiled back, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "You answered all the questions you knew with a great foundation of knowledge and a very practical approach. Those you struggled with, you analysed, even going as far as deducing the effects of spells from their incantations. As for those you had no way of answering, you got creative. Some you picked randomly, others you found most interesting, but I did notice that you tried to balance all your unsure answers so they wouldn't affect the outcome of the quiz too much. Quite ingenious, really. Aiming for Ravenclaw?"_

 _Scorpius blinked, surprised, "Not especially. And you got all that from watching me take the quiz?"_

" _I also noticed that you never asked for help, not even to shed light on words you didn't know," the man added without disapproval, "Curious, don't you think?"_

 _Scorpius didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't even considered the option of asking him._

 _The man disappeared in the back of the shop but his voice still carried out all the way to the front._

" _You're more of a walnut guy, aren't you?" He asked even though Scorpius knew very little about different types of wood, "I'm one myself. Best wand wood, I tell you, but then again, that's what every wizard says about theirs. Not much of a Dragon Heartstring person I guess, your head's worth more than that…"_

 _There was a bit of shuffling, a thud and a cry of pain. A small cloud of smoke emerged._

" _Bloody shoe boxes!" The man swore, "Well let's see… Oh. Oho!"_

 _The man ran out of the back, a ominous grin on his face and a brand new shoe box in hand. His eyes were sparkling with excitement and Scorpius didn't know why he was suddenly feeling very much like a ferret in front of a hungry hypogriff._

" _How do you feel about helping me out, lad?" The man asked._

" _I have been taught not to accept deals before hearing them." Scorpius deadpanned, taking a step back._

" _Smart one," the man approved. "As you might have noticed, I'm still an apprentice. But that does not mean I haven't made a few wands myself… Or that I haven't experimented a bit with my creations."_

 _The man let the meaning sink in._

" _You want me to try one of your inventions," Scorpius deduced in awe. "You want me to try a brand new type of wand."_

" _Very good! This," the man said, placing the show box on the counter and revealing a beautiful, sword shaped wand, "is a ten inch wand with Unicorn hair as its core."_

" _What's the catch then?" Scorpius asked, not bothering hiding his curiosity._

" _First, tell me this," the man asked, putting the lid back on, "why were you so amazed by the shop earlier? You're a Malfoy, surely you've seen older and greater things."_

" _I…" Scorpius started, trying to find an answer, "I'm not sure. It's just… beautiful? Humbling? It feels special, like being surrounded by a powerful but kind force… Merlin, this must sound ridiculous."_

 _The man chuckled. "Believe me, it doesn't." He opened the lid again and explained, "This wand is what I call a Chimera wand. It is moulded from two woods instead of one: walnut and english oak. I don't know what I was thinking, merging those two woods - they don't get along much, you see. Never thought the wand would hold together, much less that I'd find someone to pair it with and yet here it is and here you are. Try taking it."_

 _In his mind, Scorpius wanted nothing more than to take the curious wand. However, he found that his hand reached for it slowly, shakily, almost in fear of breaking it. The boy held his breath as the tip of his fingers touched the wood and he could feel Ollivander's apprentice doing the same._

 _As soon as Scorpius raised it from its box, eyes sparkling in wonder and mouth slightly gaping, a rush of wind embraced him warmly. He felt his robes flutter slightly and his hair ruffle and most of all, he felt the magic within him resonate with the wand, pulsing in deaf but powerful waves, like underwater footsteps of a giant._

" _It's… Perfect." Scorpius breathed out._

" _It does seem like it." The man smiled proudly, "Well that'll be seven galleons for you."_

 _Scorpius tried reaching for the money in his right back pocket with his left hand but found himself awkwardly hugging himself. Blushing, he gently placed his new wand on the counter and got the coins out, gingerly handing them to the man._

" _Mind," the man told him, "I'd appreciate it if you came back some time to tell me how the wand goes."_

" _Of course, Mr…" Scorpius trailed off._

" _Voler. Vincent Volleur. I'm Garrick Ollivander's grand nephew and apprentice."_

" _Well then thank you Mr. Volleur," Scorpius said with a polite bow, "It was nice meeting you."_

" _Thank_ you _, Mr. Malfoy," Volleur grinned before fanning the air with his hand dismissively, "Off you go now. Your friends must be tired of waiting."_

 _Scorpius nodded and walked away, wand box tucked in his arms like a baby. He had already opened the door when Volleur called him back. Scorpius turned around to see the man holding a crumpled paper in his hands._

" _If you were wondering, Mr. Malfoy," the man said with a wolfish smirk, "you're quite the virgin seductress."_

His trip at Ollivander's had been the first time he had had access to his magic. He had always felt it there, waiting to get out, but to touch it had been almost forbidden. It was a miracle when nothing blew around accidental magic. Now though, he was about to learn how to reign it in, how to beguile it into doing his bidding.

"It is tradition for the first spell taught to be the Levitation Charm," professor Patil told them, "I would like you all to repeat after me its incantation: _Wingardium Leviosa_."

The whole class did as told, some even trying to wave their wand simultaneously.

"Again. _Wingardium Leviosa_."

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," they chorused.

"That will have to do for now," she sighed, "now, I want you all to observe my wand movement. It is essential that the incantation and the flick of the wrist coincide; harmony is the main pillar of magic."

The students imitated her movement in silence and anticipation. Once professor Patil was satisfied, she demonstrated the charm with a Slytherin's quill without warning, startling the first year.

"Your turn," she declared.

And so the class suddenly sprung to life, every student excitedly reciting the charm with clumsy wand waving. Scorpius was not exception, he waved his wand carefully at his quill, speaking the incantation clearly. His quill remained immobile, much to his disappointment. Then, he closed his eyes and focused on the magic inside of him as he had done on the train. Breathing out, Scorpius pointed his wand at his quill again and, with an elegant flick of his wrist, said "Wingardium Levio-"

Before he could end the incantation, Scorpius felt magic build up in his hand and then in his wand. It was nowhere as pleasant as he had thought it would be - In fact, it felt very much like both his limb and his wand were about to explode in a rather gore and painful way. The magic was fighting him, rebelling against his command. Out of self-preservation, Scorpius never finished the spell, letting the magic in his hand slowly dissipate instead.

He let out a shaky breath.

Magic wasn't just beauty, it was dangerous as well. There was no such thing as something purely white or purely black and Scorpius was the first to know that. Only, until that very moment, he had never felt the darkness in magic. He knew of the aggressively of its wielder, but never of the energy itself. Pale, he looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed the same thing.

Around the room, all students went at it three, four, five times before the excitement became frustration. The incantations became harsh, rushed and angry and the wands started swishing in the air like sword blades instead. But none of them feared trying again, not like Scorpius did. They went at it without restraint, without care for the magic - and Scorpius knew that theirs wasn't any tamer than his.

Something was crying, but not out loud. It hadn't done that when the professor had levitated a quill. It was the way the students were doing it that was wrong.

The quills didn't even budge.

Professor Patil wasn't hiding her smug smirk.

"However easy you though spell casting was going to be," she said, "you were wrong. Even the simplest of spells demand a deep understanding of magic, as well as thorough practice and a clear mind. Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration are not for the hot-headed and impulsive unlike what most believe. They are delicate crafts and will require as much intellectual work as the other subjects. Now, try again, and remember your Magical Theory classes and everything we've done so far in Charms."

The chaotic chanting started again and Scorpius had to keep himself from staring at others in semi-horror. The air in the room was growing restless, angry, and it wasn't because of the frustrated first years.

Scorpius caught the professor looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't tried the spell again yet, and she obviously did not appreciate him slacking.

Gulping, Scorpius faced his quill once more. Professor Patil resumed going around, giving pointers to students.

"Wingardium Levio-" He clenched his teeth abruptly.

"Wing-" He tried again, but with no avail.

His magic wasn't cooperating. It was hitting a wall instead of flowing naturally. Was it the wand? Were the two woods not agreeing with each other after all? Scorpius had read up on both after his shopping trip; walnut was fickle and innovative while english oak was loyal and traditional.

The young Malfoy pressed his lips in a thin line. If the Chimera wands were a dud, he was going to have a hard time with the first term.

 _As soon as Scorpius raised it from its box, eyes sparkling in wonder and mouth slightly gaping, a rush of wind embraced him warmly. He felt his robes flutter slightly and his hair ruffle and most of all, he felt the magic within him resonate with the wand, pulsing in deaf but powerful waves, like underwater footsteps of a giant._

With new fire in his eyes, Scorpius relaxed his tightened grip on the wand. He recalled the rhythm of his heart, the pulse of his magic, the beat of his breaths and the tempo of the incantation all at once, synchronising them as well as he could in his mind. His wand then moved in the air gracefully.

He wasn't even trying to imitate the teacher's movement. Instead, he had followed the logical conclusion to the music he had deciphered and had naturally found an exact replica of the swish and flick gesture.

There was no grand, exaggerated movement or dramatic incantations. A whispered " _Wingardium Leviosa_ " was all that preceded his quill fluttering in the air, inches above Scorpius's head. With his eyes transfixed on his quill, Scorpius willed it to dance around, asking the movement with his mind but guiding the feather with his wand.

A bubble of euphoria rose in his chest. He wasn't the one casting the spell; he wasn't even in control of it. Or at least, that was how he felt. _Magic_ was the one flowing around and everywhere and all the young Gryffindor had done was let it take him along, somehow. It didn't make much sense to him either but recently, nothing really did anyway.

"Five points to Gryffindor."

Scorpius snapped out of his reverie as he noticed the whole class staring at him. His wild grin quickly returned under his control as it slid off and his eyes dismissed their childish shine. He goaded the quill back in front of him, feeling that cutting off his magic suddenly was much to barbaric.

"That, is how a successful Levitation Charm looks like," the teacher continued, "do not be alarmed if you haven't managed it yet; it usually takes a few days before you become familiar enough with your wand. Take the last fifteen minutes to practice."

"How d'you do it?" Bridget asked from the seat in front of him. Her seat-mate, Tatiana, was much more subtile about her curiosity but Scorpius didn't miss how her ear twitched and her gaze flickered to him.

"Match the final flick of your wand with the last syllable of the incantation," Scorpius instructed, trying to find a better was of explaining than just saying ' _feel the magic_ ' or some other shady prophetic advice of the sort. "Slow down when you get to long vowels but amplify the width of your movements all the same. Then-"

Scorpius stopped in his tracks as he noticed a glint of gold from the corner of his eyes. Actually, there were a lot of glints of gold, all heading towards his neighbour like stars swallowed by a black hole.

"Rosier," Scorpius sighed, "Did you bet on me a- _gain_?"

"I'll stop if you stop your pathetic word games," Ethan suggested with a shrug. He tried the spell monotonously though applying Scorpius's advice as well. His quill shivered.

"No need to go that far," Scorpius replied, "but shouldn't I at least get part of your gains? I might as well be your _part_ -ner with all the galleons I get you. That's some _gall you own_."

"I think it makes up for enduring you all this time," Bridget added conversationally, taking a break from her unsuccessful attempts.

"Someone understands," Ethan smirked.

"What is this?" Scorpius asked irritably, "Gang up on Scorpius Malfoy day?"

"Bridget Flore," Bridget introduced herself, holding out her hand and completely ignoring Scorpius, "I've seen you sit next to bro quite a lot but I don't think we've ever talked."

"Ethan Rosier," Ethan returned politely, shaking the girl's hand after pushing Scorpius aside to reach it, "how did you address Malfoy?"

"Bro." Bridget obliged, "We're House siblings."

"Siblings." Ethan repeated, raising an eyebrow at Scorpius. The young Malfoy could feel the weight of his friend's inquisitive gaze. Ethan wasn't convinced.

"It's a recent tradition in Gryffindor," Bridget explained, misunderstanding his skepticism. She started telling him all about the family system in Gryffindor, unaware of how heavily Scorpius was being scrutinised by his friend. The whole time, the Slytherin's gaze never left him and it only made it more painful that he knew very well why.

Scorpius didn't take family lightly.

"So you're…" Ethan confirmed slowly, "his sister?"

"Basically," Bridget smiled, "why?"

"And you're…" Ethan continued, talking to Scorpius this time, "alright with this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Scorpius challenged, daring his friend to say another word.

With another shrug, Ethan let the matter go. Threatening to have a whole fit about something was always the easiest way to get the young Rosier to back off. Nothing was worth getting excited over for Ethan, not even his need to know how people worked.

Ethan wasn't a very social boy, but he was a Slytherin through and through. Reading people and anticipating their actions was a question of survival in his mind and the boy had always been most uncomfortable around unpredictable crowds. He didn't like when someone acted differently than his image of them. Lack of accuracy in his bets meant lack of understanding of someone's psyche. It was most unnerving actually for Scorpius to know that Ethan was always studying him as he was studying others.

Now Ethan was usually right, in fact, Scorpius couldn't recall the last time he hadn't been. And to be quite frank, he knew that Ethan wasn't entirely wrong either. Scorpius _was_ fixated on family and he even inferred that that was why he was so angry at James Potter. Perhaps Ethan even saw as far as to notice Scorpius's disgust for pretence.

But Scorpius was honestly fine with Bridget, Louis and Trisha. None of them actually believed they were family nor were they trying to replace his real relatives.

Bridget looked between the two boys confused before resuming her work.

It was after Charms that Bridget grabbed Scorpius's arm again. Dragging him away from the other groups of students heading for lunch. She was uncouth for a girl but as she was only eleven and muggleborn, Scorpius decided to humour her.

"Remember what we talked about Monday night?" Bridget whispered as they walked. They were far enough from the others not to be heard, but close enough to look like they were part of the herd.

"About Hayden and professor Artemis?" Scorpius guessed, "Of course. What about it?"

"Well," Bridget smirked coyly, "We're Thursday, which means we have Transfiguration at the last period." Scorpius rose an eyebrow, edging her to continue, "so I was thinking, why don't we tail professor Artemis after class? He won't be teaching after so he'll definitely do whatever he does in his free time!"

"He might go eat in the Hall early," Scorpius pointed out, "we never see him at dinner."

"No one eats dinner at four," Bridget told him, "ever. Besides, aren't you curious? You're the one who said he was suspicious - though I admit I can see why. He looked so paranoid earlier when I narrowed my eyes at him in the corridor!"

"What about Hayden?" Scorpius asked, "He's the one _you_ found suspicious."

"Do you really think he's hiding something?" Bridget asked him back, worried, "I mean, he's just a first year… I know you said that-"

"I was just playing the Devil's advocate," Scorpius admitted sheepishly to her relief, "I tend to do that. To be fair, he probably is hiding something but I doubt it had anything to do with… this whole thing."

"Thank god," Bridget breathed, before smirking again, "so, you in?"

Scorpius didn't reply right away. What his sister was suggesting was not a study session; she wanted to follow a full grown wizard and hope that not only would he not notice them but that he wouldn't curse them if he did either. If professor Artemis was a dangerous fiend, the mission was practically suicidal and Scorpius had a feeling Bridget didn't quite understand how much.

She was a Gryffindor though, and a particularly curious one too. Keeping her from doing something stupid was hard but perhaps he could convince her to think about it more.

"I would," Scorpius finally answered with a sigh, "but I still have detention this week. We could wait until next week?"

"Not if he _is_ doing something dangerous!" Bridget huffed, "I'll just go myself and tell you how it goes."

"Are you mad?" Scorpius hissed, "That too risky! You can't-"

Scorpius trailed off as he saw James and Fred strutting towards Albus behind them, passing them on the way. Fred was holding a suspiciously murky ball of something behind his back and there was little doubt where it was going to end up.

By the looks of it, Albus hadn't noticed his brother yet. He was busy talking to a Slytherin Scorpius didn't know and with his books in one hand and his satchel in the other, the younger Potter was not going to have enough mobility to dodge.

James and Fred shared mischievous grins.

" _Wingardium leviosa_ ," Scorpius whispered as Fred hurled the ball towards his unsuspecting cousin, earning a curious glance from Bridget. He flickered his wand almost imperceptibly in the sleeve of his robes.

Albus's eyes widened, "wha-" he started before shutting his eyes close, bracing himself for the hit.

The murky ball, now at Scorpius's command, stopped right in front of Albus's nose and floated there for a second or two during which time seemed to freeze. Then, it slowly backed away, picking up speed as it backtracked and hit Fred in the chest.

The blond Gryffindor could barely hide his smirk, ignoring Bridget who was rolling her eyes. She always thought he was being childish when he attacked James, Fred or Rose unprovoked.

A dark cloud suddenly enrobed the two bullies and soon all the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins who were walking towards the Hall turned in reaction to the high-pitched screams of the two boys. The cloud looked like it was composed of a multitude of tiny insects though Scorpius guessed they weren't real. Illusions perhaps, or lifeless dolls.

A few first years giggled at the second years caught in their own traps, others just walked past, already tired of all the pranks going on. It was only the second week and all the new students already knew what to expect of the Duo of Dread, as they had been nicknamed.

Albus was still blinking in shock. What had happened hadn't fully sunk in yet but when it did, the Slytherin looked up at Scorpius gratefully and Scorpius offered him one of his own smiles. Unfortunately, James chose that moment to break their charm. Scorpius was impressed the Duo had had the forethought of learning failsafes for their pranks, maybe they weren't as daft as they seemed.

" _Finite incantatum_!" James cried and instantly, the insects fell to the ground before vanishing completely. The Duo was out of breath, and very angry.

"Come on, let's go," Bridget urged, grabbing his arm once more and dragging him away.

Just as he turned around, Scorpius caught the glare of James, who had followed his younger brother's line of sight.

Scorpius glanced down at his wand on purpose, inwardly grinning in victory as the older Potter understood and fumed. Then he followed Bridget without protest, hastily distancing himself from the crime scene.

James had bullied his brother enough.

"You're not supposed to do magic in the corridors," Bridget chided as they finally reached the Hall. Out of habit, the two Gryffindors took the seats closest to the doors and didn't even bother checking for people to sit with.

"Yes, well you're not supposed to tail your professors either," Scorpius replied pointedly, "didn't peg you for the rules and regulation type."

"You just have some kind of vendetta against James Potter," Bridget pouted, " _I'm_ doing this school a service."

" _You're_ trying to get yourself killed," Scorpius corrected as he added a bit mashed potatoes and a lot of salad to his plate.

Bridget rolled her eyes "You're probably overthinking things, bro," she said, taking a bite of her chicken sausage, "there's caution and then there's paranoia."

"I'm sorry, who said that 'knowing there might be a rapist or a murdered in a school is not exactly reassuring' again?" Scorpius reminded her, his fingers doing the quote marks, "do you even realise what he could do to you if he caught you?"

"He can hurt me all he wants," Bridget glared with determination, "I'm not afraid of pain."

"There are spells that do much worse than hurt," Scorpius told her seriously. Was she seriously spouting all that nonsense? There was courage and then there was suicide. Just a few days ago, she had at least been worried - what in Merlin's name had changed?

"What is he gonna do?" Bridget snorted, "change the colours of my robes to yellow?"

"What?" Scorpius asked in disbelief.

"I've seen the magical world these past two weeks, bro," Bridget explained, "it's like a child censored version of the real world! Did you see what we're learning at the moment? The effects of the jelly-leg jinx, a charm to make objects fly, the peace treaty between unicorns and dragons, the importance of sparkles in magical evaluation, how to take care of singing sunflowers, how to transform a button into a hairclip! Magic is literally about sunshines and daisies. I mean, don't tell my parents but I've watched Breaking Bad and Jessica Jones; I think the muggles have a darker and grittier world - no offence."

Offence? No, Scorpius wasn't offended about Bridget's rant. He was _horrified_. Was that really what she thought of the magical world? She knew about the recent war, she knew how people had been slaughtered and tortured and turned into slaves. He had no idea what Breaking Bad and that Jessica woman were but the way she had said _unicorns and dragons_ , in that slight mocking yet fond tone told him what he needed to know.

She was gravely mistaken about a lot of things, and it was likely to get her killed. Knowledge was often said to be a great weapon and perhaps ignorance was a handicap, but in Scorpius's opinion, erroneous knowledge did the most damage. Bridget was too confident in her image of the magical world. Granted, she probably knew more than anyone else back at her home, but she still didn't know anything of what she was getting herself in. She was going to get herself killed. She was going to die.

How could she say these things so _casually_?

"You're wrong," he breathed out, a bit panicked, "an educated wizard can do things you can't even imagine - you have no idea what-"

"Look, I get that you're worried," Bridget sighed, "and I'm thankful for it. But come on, let's be serious, even if he does turn me into a bunny in a top hat, another professor can always reverse it. It'll be fine. As professor Earl says in Magical Theory, magic is what we muggles call a science."

She was on a train about to crash and Scorpius had no way of stopping it.

Was it because she had never seen it with her own eyes? Scorpius had. Scorpius lived in a manor filled with suspicious objects. He had seen the scars on his father's chest, the brand on his arm. He had seen his grandfather losing his mind, his relatives showing their memories during their late trials. He had grown up hearing about Dementors, Thestrals and werewolves, about Unforgivable Curses and magic black as a moonless night. He had seen the darkness of the magical world, he lived right in the middle of it.

Sunshines and daisies?

"What do _you_ know about magic?" Scorpius snapped, "You're _muggleborn_!"

Bridget's eyes went wide. It could have been because Scorpius had gotten angry, something he didn't do openly. It could have been because he had suddenly stood up and she was surprised. Most likely though, it was because of his words, of what they meant and of how demeaning they were in any context.

Scorpius barely caught himself, paling. Had he really said that?

All those in hearing range had stopped eating, staring at Scorpius in disgust, anger and horror. For him, out of all the students, to speak those very words… He might as well have called her a mudblood and praised the Dark Lord for killing her kind.

But Scorpius didn't like thinking in terms of mudblood. His grandmother had always told him not to judge people by their blood status for his sake more than anything, and deep down he knew there was little difference. Hermione Weasley was enough proof for that. Yet, there was a difference. He wouldn't have seen it if it hadn't been for Bridget ranting about it but there was a big, big difference. Bridget was naive, ignorant and yet she thought she knew it all.

"What the Hell does that mean?" Bridget growled and Scorpius didn't dare answer. He was already hanging by a thin enough thread without adding weight to his guilt.

"I thought you weren't like that!" She cried, "I thought you didn't care about blood status!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Scorpius defended himself weakly. He didn't know what was wrong with him; he usually wasn't that intimidated by angry people. He had offended more than one person in his life and never had he felt so terrible about. He couldn't even find his words, his arguments and his wit, "That wasn't what - Bridget, I -"

How did he stop her being angry? How did he calm her down? How did he make it okay again?

"I was saying that you haven't seen the extent of what magic can do yet," he tried, "that even though your blood status doesn't mean you can't become as brilliant of a witch as others, you still _did_ live with muggles until recently and-"

"And just because _you're_ pure-blood you know everything?" Bridget finished, cutting him off angrily, "Just because _you're_ pure-blood you're right and I'm wrong? Well guess what, _Malfoy_? Every Muggle is worth ten of you."

With that last bit practically spat at her House brother, Bridget stormed out of the Hall, her lunch unfinished.

"Bridget!" Scorpius called back, "Bridget! Wait!"

He ran after her, his mind frantically trying to understand what had just happened. He had hurt Bridget in a way only he could. He had betrayed her after she had been the only one to give him her trust and now he was going to lose her too.

Had it been anyone else, Scorpius would have stood his ground because he was right. Discriminating muggleborns and acknowledging their existence, their different upbringing was very different. It was a fact that Bridget couldn't know as much as he did about the magical world just like it was a fact that Scorpius would be incapable of surviving a week in muggle London without magic. Not only that but Bridget's mindset was dangerous for her.

But Bridget was not anyone. She was Bridget and he couldn't hurt her. It wasn't a question of right and wrong. Even if he had to lie and accept an error as law, he had to fix it. Older brothers weren't supposed to -

Oh.

Scorpius stopped in his track, in the middle of a corridor.

" _And you're… alright with this?"_ Ethan had asked.

No. No, he really wasn't.

 **LINEBREAK**

By the time lunch was over and Defence Against the Dark Arts about to start, word of Scorpius Malfoy's outburst had already spread amongst everyone. The first year Gryffindor found himself walking with a large radius of empty around him. There were whispers of how his parents had obviously influenced him, of how he had been lying to them all along to try and fool them, of how he really should have been in Slytherin. Then again, he was used to whispers.

He accidentally bumped into Robin who promptly fainted.

Scorpius did try to find Bridget to at least apologise and come to some kind of understanding, but the girl had been avoiding him like the plague. She had even made sure to arrive just on time to class to make sure Scorpius wouldn't have had time to talk to her before.

How was he supposed to admit his wrongs if she wouldn't even let him? For a person as level-headed as Bridget, she was sure being unreasonable. Perhaps being muggleborn had eaten at her more than Scorpius had realised. Either ways, it was never a good strategy to ignore your enemies words. Distrusting them? Smart. Turning a deaf ear? Not so much.

Maybe it was for the best that Bridget never forgave him. He had enough to worry about with Hogwarts making him so sensitive and being friends with Bridget was just making it worst. How could he even know if he saw Bridget as a friend or if he was trying to turn her into a sister? It was cruel of him to put her in someone else's role, to use her as a replacement.

Still, he had to show her how twisted the magical world could get. Otherwise, Bridget was going to investigate a suspicious individual to her own risk.

"Professor?" He asked as the other students were reading a paragraph on recognising the effect of a subtile jelly-leg jinx. Ethan rose an eyebrow at him.

Professor Blishwick glared at him, probably angry that he had broken their unspoken agreement of pretending not to know of the other's existence. However, to her credit, she did reply, albeit icily, "Yes, Mr Malfoy?"

"How badly can a simple jelly-leg jinx turn out if performed incorrectly?" He asked, even though he knew the answer. He noticed Bridget frowning a few seats away.

The professor paused, assessing Scorpius and his question as if trying to see the trap in there. In the end, she must have decided that the question, at least, was indeed innocent enough.

"If it is just a slight stutter or a tremor of the hand while performing the jinx," the professor explained, talking to the whole class, "then it is likely that the spell will simply not work or that the effect will be greatly lessened. However," her tone turned darker, "if it is cast with a broken wand, it the incantation is too jumbled up or, often, when one first tries it wandless or wordless, it can easily shred a man's leg apart or permanently make him forget how to use them."

A lot of students paled at that and the professor took note.

"You shouldn't be so surprised," she said indifferently, "I was told Padma warned you that spell-casting was a delicate art. Many wizards have met their downfall at their own wands and it is important to keep in mind that magic is a double edged sword. Every spell can turn horribly wrong, which is why most do not even attempt experimenting with spell-crafting or wandless and wordless magic."

"But surely if you've used a spell enough, there's no chance of it going wrong?" Tatiana asked, having become interested in the discussed topic.

"I'm afraid, Mrs. Shafiq," professor Blishwick bluntly corrected, "that becoming accustomed to a spell is only being accustomed to its movement and its incantation. One must always focus on the casting. In fact, let me tell you about something that happened during my second year at Hogwarts."

"We had a fraud of a professor, a man called Gilderoy Lockhart," she started, "He has long gone out of fashion but twenty, thirty years ago, he was somewhat of a celebrity. He had defeated many creatures believed to be impossible to defeat and cured many incurable diseases… Or so he said. In truth, the man was simply incredibly talented with memory charms. He sought out wizards with achievements yet to be broadcasted, obliviated them and stole their accomplishments for himself."

"One day, he was forced to steal a wand to obliviate a fellow second year of mine. Only, he hadn't noticed my classmate's wand was broken and proceeded to cast the very same spell he had done a thousand times before. The spell backfired and instead of just erasing my classmate's recent memories of him, he completely destroyed all of his own. The Memory Charm is especially dangerous when it goes out of control. Even done correctly it can cause severe disorientation and headaches; professor Lockhart ended in the psyche ward of st Mungo's. His memory never did come back and it has caused him to become a bit insane."

"I suppose we should be thankful though," she finished, "Had he just concentrated enough to work his spell with a broken wand - an infuriatingly hard, but not impossible task for an experienced wizard - we would have ended with three dead students, a monster loose on campus killing the others, and absolutely no chance of wining the war against Lord Voldemort."

Bridget's eyes widened. She turned to Scorpius with a slightly guilty look but then her gaze hardened. She frowned in a way that said 'I know what you're trying to do' and angrily turned away again. Clearly, she didn't care so much about who was right between them. She was just angry about his muggleborn comment.

But Scorpius had to show her what she was getting herself into, even if it did, ultimately, destroy their friendship. He was right and no amount of pretend sibling-ship was going to let him be blinded again.

So, Scorpius asked a very similar question in Transfiguration the next hour.

Professor Artemis was a bit taken aback by the fact that Scorpius Malfoy, the boy who looked at him like he might have murdered someone, had asked him an actual, valid question in class. Nevertheless, the suspicious character got over his shock and answered the question as demanded by his role.

"Well transfigurating objects doesn't have that much danger," he said, "unless you count accidents where they regain their normal shapes suddenly. Wise wizards have died falling from ladders turning back into cauldrons or wearing helmets that started off as bludgers and getting their heads cleanly cut off."

"The most dangerous I'd say, is when one is dealing with live beings. It is exceedingly easy to kill accidentally using Transfiguration," he declared with unusual gravity to his voice, "just think about it, think about how many things can go wrong while temporarily immobilising the life of an animal or a person. Not to mention how simple it is to permanently disfigure someone. Transfiguration is where the most inhumane accidents happen. Messing with the art is messing with the nature of things, it is twisting what is into what should not be."

"Now, I hate to go on a tangent but I do believe this to be a necessary lesson to be learnt sooner rather than later. Transfiguration is not something to do for fun. Any spell you will use in class is a spell whose theories and laws you will have learnt by heart. The spells we teach up to your OWLs all have counter-spells, even for the all the little slip-ups you might do. However, in the future, you may be faced with more advanced spells, spells that you need to be a fool not to fear performing. Not to say you shouldn't be careful during your first five years at Hogwarts - there is no cure for death, I'm afraid."

"Was that supposed to achieve anything except traumatise half our class?" Bridget hissed from a few seats behind Scorpius when the teacher finished his explanation.

"As long as _you'_ retraumatised," Scorpius replied, "I consider it mission accomplished."

"Yeah? Well try again, _Malfoy_."

Scorpius sighed.

Bridget disappeared right as the bell chimed. The thought of skipping detention to look for her was tempting but Scorpius knew a lost cause when he saw one. So, he walked to detention instead, praying that Bridget wasn't the kind of person trouble followed on a regular basis. His suspicion of professor Artemis was just a hunch anyway, just a gut feeling. The chances that he was actually some obscure dark wizard were quite low.

Hopefully she wouldn't do anything too stupid. Otherwise -

That wasn't Scorpius talking. He wasn't being rational. Bridget was going to be fine and there was no psychopath in the school.

"Mr. Malfoy," professor Patil greeted as he stepped inside, "take your usual seat."

Scorpius did as told; he had pissed off enough people today. Patricia was already there, writing her lines. She glanced up at him with an inquiring look, having obviously heard the rumours by now. Patricia didn't know him that well, they were acquaintances at best, but she was one of the few who talked to him willingly.

"My muggleborn friend thinks magic is harmless," he explained briefly as he took out a roll of parchment.

Patricia seemed to be fine with that answer and dived her nose back into her lines. They still had two detentions after that one but at least most of it was done.

The detentions with professor Patil had been extremely uneventful which itself was a miracle considering Patricia, James and Fred were in the same room. The Duo of Dread had two main targets after all: Patricia and Albus and they rarely let any opportunity slip by to tickle their nemesis. Scorpius himself didn't encounter any problems with his Housemates, they always arrived separately and left separately as Scorpius was a much faster writer than the two.

But still, these detentions had allowed Scorpius to learn quite a bit about the three others.

Patricia's table was always neat, her quill-case placed with obsessive precision horizontally over her parchment and her ink well dangerously close to her wrist as she wrote. She never spilled it though, and she crossed out her rare misspellings with a ruler. Her writing was quick, slanted, easy to read but very sharp.

James Potter had a very messy workspace. He dumped the contents of his quill-case on his table to find the quill he was looking for quickly and never really bothered putting it all back. Every time he added ink to his quill, drops would splotch all over his parchment and table. Not that that made any difference really; his writing looked like a child's doodle.

Fred Weasley was surprisingly more practical. He kept his ink well far from reach, making him stretch out regularly for the sake of being careful. He kept his quill-case on his knees, making all of his tools easily available without taking additional space on his table. His writing was big, round and simple but whenever a hasty error made a word harder to read, Fred preferred to cross it out and write it again to avoid straining the reader's eyes.

Scorpius had little to say about his own space. His quill-case was left in his satchel and he was using a self-inking quill so all there was left in front of him was his parchment. Despite being the youngest, his writing was exceptionally pretty and elegant. It had accentuated dips, slim curls and an innocent tilt. He didn't make mistakes but when an 'o' was too round or a title not centred enough, his eye twitched and he had to admit that the thought of starting it all over again often crossed his mind.

When James and Fred finally arrived, Scorpius didn't miss the harsh glares they were sending him. Something told him they didn't appreciate his earlier intervention. Luckily, under the teacher's scrutiny, there was nothing the two could do.

Besides, who wasn't angry with him at the moment?

Judging by the empty seats around him at dinner, Scorpius guessed that no one was a fairly good conclusion. His only consolation that night was seeing Bridget whole and alive eating and chatting with Tatiana.


	5. Between caution and paranoia

The next morning, Bridget approached him at breakfast.

Scorpius wisely kept his mouth shut as he noticed the young witch walking towards his table with purpose in her steps. She still looked fairly angry with him, but her haste betrayed her excitement. Bridget slid in the seat facing his silently, placing her satchel next to her.

"So I followed professor Artemis last night," she said casually, looking at her nails smugly.

Scorpius choked on his coffee.

"And I overheard a rather interesting conversation," she continued, ignoring Scorpius who was hitting his own chest, trying to regain his breath, "which, of course, being _muggleborn_ , should be an impossible thing for me to do because wizards are so much more superior to me."

The venom in her words was as easy to miss as a bludger heading straight for one's head.

"You did what?" Scorpius hissed, "Are you an idiot? Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"All I know is that we're not the only ones suspicious of him," Bridget growled, her eyes flashing threateningly, "One of those Weasley girls was confronting him, menacing him of revealing his true identity if he didn't tell her what he was doing here and what he was planing."

"Rose?" Scorpius guessed.

"No, the Head girl," Bridget corrected, miffed that he had interrupted her story, "she looked about ready to rip his head off. Point is, it worked. Professor Artemis is forced to tell her everything. They'll meet again on Sunday at Hogsmeade in a pub or something that's called the Three Broomsticks."

Scorpius blinked, "You got all that from eavesdropping?"

"Not so much of a useless mudblood am I now?" Bridget glared with pride, "how much did you find out oh great pure-blood?"

"I was in _detention_ ," Scorpius reminded her, "and what you did was still way too reckless. Did you not hear what badly performed magic can do? Can you imagine what that means of wizards who do that on purpose?"

"You're just too proud to admit I was right." Bridget huffed. Scorpius rolled his eyes. She was much too stubborn to convince.

"You know what?" Scorpius finally decided, "Meet me in the library after Flying."

"Why?" Bridget asked suspiciously.

"First, I want to show you something," Scorpius answered, "Then, I'm not letting you sneak out of Hogwarts to follow a possible dark wizard alone and we need a plan for that."

* * *

That Friday afternoon marked their first flying lesson with the Hufflepuffs. The first years of both Houses were standing in the Quidditch pitch, lined up with old brooms between them. Some pureblooded and half-blooded students looked fairly confident, having without a doubt already tried riding brooms at home.

For once, Scorpius wasn't one of them. His grandmother had been fervently against him trying such a dangerous thing without supervision and with his father never home, his grandmother bed ridden and his grandfather's attention too fickle, Scorpius hadn't had the opportunity. He was still less nervous than most muggleborns, but that was it.

Professor Wood was inspecting his new victims thoroughly. The man had a reputation for being very strict when it came to flying and very loose in any other aspects of life. His obsession might have made him a running joke in other circumstances, but his burnt cheek was enough to gather a decent amount of respect from his students. It was a wound from the war, the Battle of Hogwarts to be more exact. Rumours said he had gotten it from Bellatrix Lestrange herself, one of the few Death Eaters powerful and horrible enough to be remembered decades after the war.

Another relative of Scorpius's.

The professor gave an inspiring speech to the first years, one he apparently repeated every year word for word. He spoke of the greatness of Quidditch and how it was the less barbaric version of medieval jousts. He spoke of its History and of its famous players. He spoke of how many Quidditch players had valiantly fought in the last war - him included. He spoke of many great things really, but none of it was particularly interesting.

And then, finally, he told them to take their brooms.

Much like in Charms class, a chorus of 'up!' sang as the students hovered their hands over their brooms.

Scorpius's broom immediately flew up to his hand, to his surprise. He wasn't the only one though; Joshua Cattermole, Rose Weasley, Delphine Mackerbrough and another Hufflepuff boy had achieved similar results.

"As soon as you have your broom," professor Wood instructed as Robin was hit by his own broom rising too fast from the ground, "mount it and try kicking off just slightly above ground. A lot of it relies on your balance, but you must also will the broom to fly, or it will remain just a stick in your hands."

Scorpius did as told. He pictured the broom in the air, pushing it to rise, and rise it did.

And then he fell sideways and crashed on the grass.

"Mother of Merlin!" He swore as he dusted his robes and scratched a stain of soil out. He rearranged his hair and grabbed his broom again, ready to try once more.

"Perfect, Mrs. Weasley!" Wood complimented as the Hufflepuff floated in the air with ease. She did a few loops in the air with a smug grin, "you're a natural!"

"I've been playing Quidditch with my cousins for years!" She told the professor.

"We'll see you in games next year, then," Wood nodded enthusiastically, "which position?"

"Chaser or seeker."

"Very well, Mrs. Weasley," Wood approved, "This class is clearly not going to teach you anything. Use the time to practice more advanced manoeuvres if you wish."

Scorpius shook his head as Rose agreed and flew off with incredible speed. Of course the know-it-all would know how to ride a broom too. She showed off a few acrobatic moves in the air, earning rounds of applause from all the grounded first years who couldn't even lift off yet.

Scorpius hated losing to Rose. It might have been childish but he had his own pride too.

And Scorpius _was_ bitter about how natural she at flying, but not as much as he would have been if she had gotten a better grade at Charms. Because, for some reason, he felt proud looking at her fly.

As Scorpius watched the red head flying, he was suddenly reminded of Albus. The girl was smiling like her cousin had when Scorpius had been sorted. Up there, on her broom, she finally felt right, _different enough_. Her cloud of red hair and her sky blue eyes belonged in the air, high up where no one could get to her. Her bell-like laugh escaped her lips as she rose again after a plunge, her robe fluttering behind her.

Scorpius mounted his broom again.

Half an hour later, all the first years had finally managed to hover above the ground, even if shakily for most.

Well, all except for Scorpius.

The young Malfoy just couldn't kick off without falling from his broom. He was quickly getting very well acquainted with the Quidditch Pitch's lawn. He didn't understand how one could stay straight on the broom. The second he went up, gravity had him falling back.

"Looks like blood status isn't everything after all," Rose snickered as she swooped down to land in front of him.

Scorpius glared at her. A lot of the other students were laughing at her words and at his expense, Bridget included. The only thing Scorpius found hilarious was the fact that they all seemed to think he was a blood supremacist when he had, in fact, been trying to make sure a muggleborn wasn't getting herself killed.

At times like this, he wished he was Hayden. Not going to class was a good way of avoiding people after all. Where was Hayden anyway?

"And there you were, telling me not to make fun of your cousins for their lack of rethorics," Scorpius snarled, "Hypocrite much?"

Rose blushed.

"I'd rather be a hypocrite than a bigot." Rose retorted.

"Well congratulation, you're both," Scorpius deadpanned.

"You're the one insulting muggleborns!" Rose reminded him, offended.

"I did no such thing," Scorpius answered cooly and truthfully.

"Oh, so now you deny it?" She scoffed.

"I don't deny saying that as a mugleborn, Bridget is ignorant about _certain things_ ," Scorpius explained, shooting a glare at Bridget who stuck out her tongue at him, "but I never meant to demean her according to her blood status. The way I see it, you're the one immediately pegging me for a Death Eater because of my family name."

"Immediately?" Rose repeated, unamused, "You attack James and insult my cousins, prank my cousins, insult Flore for being muggleborn and encourage Albus to - to-"

"Albus makes his own choices." Scorpius told her with a scowl, "do not blame others just because he does not match the idyllic image you made of him in your head. You're the reason he's breaking away from your family. It's your responsibility to bring him back, not mine."

Rose stepped back, jaw clenched.

"How dare you say it's my fault!" She shrieked, the wind picking up unnaturally, "I've always been at his side! I've always been there for him! He's my best friend, my own _cousin_! He's - He's just confused, _you_ confused him! Albus is a kind person - he wouldn't hurt a pixie even if it pulled his hair - he wouldn't abandon us like that, not without warning or explanation -"

Scorpius nearly bashed his head in hers. She really had no idea, did she? It must have been torture for Albus to live with her around, he realised. Not because he didn't like Rose but probably because he loved her too much. He didn't know Albus that well to be honest, but if anything, he understood that the boy was different from the rest of the Potter-Weasleys, too different. It wasn't just a question of hobbies and colours, it was a question of moral values and life philosophies.

Albus wasn't brave or unconditionally kind. He had lied his whole life and waited to have a House to hide behind before taking off his safety net. He had watched his cousin defend his virtue when he knew he had none and had decided to violently shatter her misplaced faith in him rather than continue living a mockery of life. Albus was just a frightened eleven year old who realised that he'd chose his own happiness over his family when he was torn between the two and did so.

The worst was, Albus probably could have had both if only his family had been more accepting of darker traits.

"Merlin's beard, do you hear yourself speak?" Scorpius said, "And it never occurred that that's why he never told you anything? Albus is _human_ , Weasley. As for my previous offences, one was an incident induced by Potter harassing a certain Slytherin, the other one was not an accident but was held very much in a similar context and the last one is due to the fact that my House sister seems to deny the existence of the darker sides of magic."

"You're just being paranoid," Bridget pouted as she clumsily floated towards them on her broom.

"Tell that to Weasley's parents," Scorpius shrugged.

"What was that about my parents?"

"I thought you'd be able to tell a harmless comment from an insult, Weasley," Scorpius dawdled, keeping his expression disinterested in the face of the fiery red head's explosive temper, "but it seems that no matter how little I think of it, I still overestimate your intelligence."

"Wanna see just how intelligent I am?" Rose growled, wiping her wand out.

Scorpius fingered his own under his sleeves. "Violence is the weapon of the stupid and the wrong," he smirked, "words are enough for those of us with a brain and who know they are right."

"You-"

"Weasley! Malfoy!"

Bridget and the two named students whirled around to see professor Wood standing behind them, arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

"This attitude of yours is disgraceful," he told them sternly, "To think you'd continue your parents' feud long after it's been concluded. Five points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

"Sorry professor," Rose apologised.

"I hope the two of you will be able to put aside your differences soon," the man continued, "as you'll be spending your Friday afternoons together."

"What?" Scorpius choked.

"I can't have detention!" Rose shrieked, "my mum would _kill_ me!"

"Hermione's done her fair share of rule breaking during her years at Hogwarts," professor Wood pointed out, amused, "but that was not what I was alluding to. The two of you have demonstrated a level of skill in flying much too different from the rest of your classmates' to follow the same lessons as them. Since there is only one of me, I would like you, Mrs. Weasley, to coach Mr. Malfoy here until he manages to catch up to the rest."

"Hell no!" Rose protested, "I can't stand him!"

"The feeling's mutual, Weasley," Scorpius grimaced.

"This was not a request, children," professor Wood smirked, "It's an order. If you want to get it over with, well, let's hope that Mr. Malfoy is a fast learner."

Rose and Scorpius scowled at each other.

* * *

"Well that went well," Bridget laughed as she walked away from the pitch with Scorpius. She was still angry with him unfortunately, taking every opportunity to either make fun of him, glare at him or show him that even muggleborns can do things right, despite Scorpius's insistence that yes, he knows muggleborns make brilliant wizards too. The only reason she was accompanying him was their previous agreement to go to the library.

"Say that again," Scorpius grimaced, "I didn't hear you properly the first ten times."

"Who knew that the Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy couldn't fly, something that even muggleborn students seem to be able to manage fairly well?" She continued as they stepped inside the castle.

"I keep telling you," Scorpius repeated, "I have no preconceived notions of muggleborn incompetence."

"That's not what you said yesterday."

"What I meant yesterday was that you don't know what wizards are capable of like I do," Scorpius tried reasoning with her again.

"Because I'm muggleborn," Bridget added.

"Because you were raised in the muggle world," Scorpius corrected.

"Same thing," Bridget shrugged, "you're prejudiced."

Scorpius groaned.

"Your naive views of magic are going to get you killed, you know that?" Scorpius asked, frustrated, "If you think transfigurating you into a silly creature is the worst professor Artemis can do, you're in for a whole lot of surprise when he crucios you to insanity."

"Cru - what?" Bridget frowns.

"My point exactly!" Scorpius said, "The Unforgivable Curses are the base of any dark wizard worth his-"

 ** _Splotch!_**

Scorpius's rant was interrupted by a big cube of cold jelly falling on him, encasing him briefly before shattering to pieces. His robes were left feeling slightly humid and gross and he smelled like strawberry, which wasn't really bad usually, but the smell was exceedingly strong.

Scorpius craned his neck to see the Duo of Dread looking down from the railing upstairs. Fred was laughing hard, nearly rolling on the floor while James just looked at him with a devilish smile and intense hatred in his eyes. If Rose's opinion on him was anywhere near James, than the latter probably blamed him as well for Albus's rebellion.

Bridget was giggling. She kept glancing at his hair and laughing even harder.

Scorpius took out the mirror in his satchel and glanced at his reflection. His hair was shock pink and the linings of his school robes were as well. He personally would have preferred a pastel pink but victims weren't choosers in pranks.

"Looks like the Duo have a new target!" Bridget chuckled.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. What was that prank supposed to achieve? It wasn't nearly elaborate enough to get him riled up. He felt gross and was definitely up for a shower as soon as he reached the common room, but it stopped there.

The only thing that was worrisome was the fact that these pranks were going to become a regular thing. It wasn't like he hadn't thought of it before antagonising the two menaces, but back then, Scorpius's more childish side had unfortunately taken over. Not that it wasn't taking over this time. Part of Scorpius's cool demeanour was mostly just to piss the Duo off. Nothing ticked a prankster more than having his pranks being ignored or shrugged off.

"Let's go to the library before we miss dinner," Scorpius told Bridget.

"I thought you'd be angrier," Bridget mused, "They did mess with your hair."

"It's just a colour change, it's not permanent and everyone knows it's them," Scorpius shrugged, "Besides, we have more pressing matters."

Bridget nodded and the two of them walked to the library, getting curious glances from anyone who walked past them. It really was a good thing he had been accustomed to being stared at all the time before coming to Hogwarts.

"So what did you want to show me?" Bridget asked after Mme Pince had given Scorpius an odd, calculating look and allowed them in. They had signed the library cards in the common room during lunch and the librarian just couldn't refuse their entry, despite the strong smell.

Scorpius walked further in the library, closely followed by his House sister. There were a few other students working in various part of the library but as it was no where close to exam period, it was mostly a few Ravenclaws and the occasional Slytherin or two.

"Have you ever heard of Gellert Grindelwald?" He asked, looking through shelves to find books on the matter.

"No…?" Bridget replied, obviously unsure where he wanted to go with this.

"He was a dark wizard who was defeated about seventy years ago," Scorpius told her, sliding a thin book out, "he was very mild though, as far as dark wizards go. The only reason he was considered as such was mostly because he disagreed with the Statue of Secrecy and because he was powerful enough to attempt toppling the Ministry. All in all, he committed very few atrocities."

Scorpius opened the book on a nearby table and looked through the summary. He flipped the pages until he reached one in particular. There was a gravure of a wizard with his organs all darkened and spilling from his stomach.

" _The_ _praevaricati curse is the primary reason for Grindelwald expulsion from Drumstrang_ ," he read, " _It turns the victim's magic against them and destroys them from the inside, torturously slowly. At first, it shatters the target's wand before burning their organs from the inside. As the spell manipulates the whole of the target's inner magic, spreading it in his body, the target is kept alive during the whole procedure, despite the intense pain. Done correctly, the praevaricati curse then creates internal chaos inside the target's body, tearing apart internal organs and having them tumble around like a storm until the target bursts open and finally dies. The spell is longer the more powerful the victim and used on children, it makes them instantly burst to small pieces of flesh. Grindelwald developed it as an alternative to the cruciatus curse which leaves no permanent damage."_

"Yikes," Bridget grimaced, "wait - is this still about how I think the magic world is not as dark as the real world?"

Scorpius's eye twitched as she called the muggle world the 'real world' but he let it slide.

"Yes," he confirmed, "it is."

"Okay, fine! I believe you!" Bridget said, not very earnestly. It was obvious the girl just wanted to drop the subject.

"No you don't," Scorpius replied, narrowing his eyes.

"I really don't," Bridget admitted, "I already heard about the things that Voldemort guy did, you know? So okay, you guys get seriously bad villains once every fifty years but other than those complete nut cases, everyone's pretty… air headed I feel. Things like school shootings don't really happen in the magical world and I doubt professor Artemis is the next Dark Lord."

"Dangerous people capable of using spells like the praevaricati curse are closer and more common than you think, Bridget," Scorpius told her solemnly, "As I said, Grindelwald was _mild_ when it came to the Dark Arts. There are many wizards who pursue them much farther. Perhaps they do not have enough power and influence to move a whole nation like Grindelwald did, but a single first-year is no challenge for people like them."

"You talk as if these wizards are around every corner," Bridget sighed.

Scorpius gave her a pointed stare.

"What?"

" _My family_ of full of these wizards!" Scorpius hissed, reminding her, "They may not be Death Eaters anymore but they were - they have the skills and the guts to be. And - do you remember that story professor Patil told us?"

"The one with the memory guy?"

"Yes," Scorpius confirmed, "I don't know the details but my grandmother told me about it too, only it wasn't to warn me about the dangers of spell casting. It was to warn me about how people were likely to treat me at Hogwarts. That year, a basilisk was set loose in the school - it's basically a massive snake whose eyes kill you if you look at them - all because a pureblood witch had opened its lair under the control of Voldemort. That witch was just a first-year who had been given a dark artefact which was slowly draining her life away after nearly driving her mad. The artefact made her commit horrible acts like slaughtering roosters and letting the basilisk nearly kill other students. Hogwarts, considered the safest place on Earth then, nearly had to close down. The one behind it all?"

"Voldemort?" Bridget guessed.

"No," Scorpius replied, looking straight at her eyes, "My grandfather, Lucius Malfoy. He's back at our Manor, living his life freely. He tricked the girl into taking the artefact in the first place, knowing what it would do."

Bridget's eyes widened.

"Ethan Rosier, the guy whose hand you shook yesterday?" Bridget nodded as Scorpius continued, "His father was responsible for destroying bridges during the war and drowning countless of muggles who didn't even know _why_ they died. He proudly kept a tally of his kills," Bridget paled, "I can go on forever about dreadful family Histories of students in this school but my point is, this world is not safe and danger is closer to you than you think."

Bridget looked away, uncomfortable under Scorpius's intense gaze.

"I know you don't believe I am one of these dark wizards and I am endlessly thankful for that," Scorpius finished, "but there are good reasons why all the other students fear I might be. Because on the odd chance that I am…" Scorpius trailed off, leaving his House sister to fill in the gap.

"You win," Bridget conceded, "and I'm sorry for blowing at you in the Hall. But I still don't think we should leave professor Artemis alone."

"You're right," Scorpius nodded, "if even Victoire Weasley thought he was dangerous, then it might be wise to keep an eye out for him. I know there are notice-me-not charms so I suggest we start there. We also need to find a map or a blueprint of Hogwarts or something."

"They're meeting in less than two days," Bridget reminded him, "We'll never be able to master charms so quickly!"

"We can try," Scorpius smirked.

* * *

Scorpius and Bridget spent the whole of Saturday building a plan to tail professor Artemis and Victoire Weasley to Hogsmeade.

The pink in his robes and hair didn't go away with a shower or with a counter spell. It was Hayden who handed him the solution that morning. Albus Potter had apparently intercepted their elusive classmate and asked him to hand a vial of special product to Scorpius. The vial worked like a miracle and Scorpius was back to being blond and not smelling like fruit, much to Bridget's dismay. It was fun to see the Duo surprised at his quick recovery.

His final detention was also on that day. It had gone like all the others: quietly and tensely. Like usual, Scorpius had been the first to finish his parchment and the professor congratulated him on making it through all those detention. She held him back a bit, telling him that he was welcome to ask any questions about charms he may have had with a meaningful glance but Scorpius had the feeling she wasn't talking about his current extra-curricular project. So he left his last detention quite confused.

It was the same in class; professor Patil was always looking at him as if expecting him to sprout new legs and tap dance to the moon. She wasn't the only one either. Professor Longbottom was also often hinting at the fact that he was available to discuss anything Scorpius might be curious about.

It was weird.

But Scorpius had more important matters to attend to. He went to sleep early that day, after finalising a few touches to their plan with Bridget who still couldn't believe the speed at which he was mastering spells.

To be fair, Scorpius had been a bit surprised too. After having managed the Levitation Charm, Scorpius had a strange understanding with magic. He could play with it like one would with an old friend. Sometimes it made itself a bit reluctant, especially when Scorpius didn't respect it enough, and others, it was like magic itself was holding Scorpius's wand arm up. All he needed was to learn how the spell worked; how the magic flowed, where it applied and the relationship between magic and the spell.

He had tried explaining it to Bridget but clearly the muggleborn witch thought he was making it up as he went along. She also said they didn't have time for his bullcrap anyway, and that they were going to have to wake up extremely early the next day to put their plan into motion.

Which is why Scorpius found himself waking up at four in the morning on a Sunday. Victoire and professor Artemis were meeting at ten which left them six hours.

Hayden was actually there for once so with as little sound as he could, Scorpius slid off his bed. He noticed Robin's bed was empty which really should have surprised him more than it did. The bed sheets were crumpled and his pillow had fallen to the ground. The same sight greeted him every morning.

Nightmares again, Scorpius realised.

He had overheard Robin, Joshua and Gabriel talk about it once. Robin had a lot of nightmares considering the smallest of things frightened him to no end. Apparently, it had always been the case. However, being far from his mother only made his night terrors intensify. He talked about home a lot, Robin. The dark skinned boy told his roommates all about the muggle world when he could. He was good with words like his mother.

Scorpius couldn't imagine that, missing his family so much. He was used to not see them, even when he was at home. Coming to Hogwarts just didn't make that much of a difference to him. Those he truly did miss, he'd never see again.

He walked down the stairs into the common room, dressed in his casual robes.

"S-S-Scorp - M-M-Malfoy!" Robin stammered, almost jumping to the ceiling. He had been drinking a cup of warm chocolate near the fire, huddled in warm bathrobes.

"You can call me Scorpius if you want," Scorpius said. But the boy only paled further and scooted away slowly.

Scorpius could understand being feared, but that was a bit excessive. It was different from when he had bumped into Robin on the Hogwarts Express. Back then, he had been scared, sure, but not this jumpy and not this… terrified. If he didn't know better, Scorpius would have thought he'd killed Robin's mother in front of his eyes or something.

Speaking of Robin's mother…

"Robin, I-" Scorpius started before he was abruptly cut off by his roommate.

"I have to go sleep!" Robin hastily squeaked, abandoning his hot chocolate and running back up the stairs.

Scorpius ignored the twist in his heart.

"What on earth did you do to that poor boy?" Bridget asked as she appeared at the bottom of the girls' dormitories' stairs. Her eyes were lingering on where Robin had disappeared just seconds before. A black cat was purring in her arms.

"I wish I knew," Scorpius grimaced.

The two House siblings quickly shrugged it off, focusing on their mission instead. They were facing the very first obstacle of the day: roll call. On Sundays, roll-call was done at ten to allow students to sleep in. Unfortunately, ten was also the time Victoire and Artemis were meeting and being at two places at once just wasn't a thing.

Something knocked on the window of the common room.

"That'll be Orwell then," Scorpius said, walking over to the window and opening it just wide enough for a small grey owl with brilliant blue eyes to sweep in. The owl found Scorpius's shoulder with no difficulty and nuzzled into his neck, making Scorpius chuckle.

"Are you sure about this?" Bridget asked skeptically, "I mean you heard what Artemis said about using Transfiguration for fun… and I like my cat very, very much."

Scorpius gently picked up Orwell from his shoulder and placed him on the floor in front of him. He slid his wand from his gowns and took a deep breath.

" _Speculo reformabit_ ," he chanted, closing his eyes to get a better feel of the magic around him. He pictured himself, trying to recall every detail of his own face, every detail of his own clothes down to the texture of socks.

It was much harder than any other spell Scorpius had attempted so far. He could feel that the smallest slip of his focus would snowball into catastrophe. The spell was tugging at his inside and the magic within his owl was fighting the transformation. It was like Artemis had said, Scorpius was trying to modify the very nature of his target and nature was a stubborn opponent. Yet the boy knew he couldn't force the spell. He had to goad magic, poke gently at the core of his owl until it relented, if only a bit. In a way, this was just like dealing with Rose; Scorpius had to find the right arguments or the conversation would backfire.

After a few minutes, magic twisted where Orwell was supposed to be. Scorpius guided the flow like a conductor in front of an orchestra and when he opened his eyes again, he was met his eyes.

In front of him stood a Scorpius Malfoy with a blank expression and a strange posture. His feet were stuck together like a soldier's, his hands joining behind his back but not touching, his chest leaning slightly forward and his head tilting in swift, jerky movements. Scorpius number two opened his mouth and a strangled screech came out from it, surprising him too.

Bridget blinked.

"Is that what my hair looks like from behind?" Scorpius asked, inspecting his final product, "Dreadful. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Holy…" Bridget breathed, "it _worked_?"

"Thank you for your confidence," Scorpius deadpanned, "Your turn. Face your cat."

Bridget did as told and after a repeat of the spell, albeit one that took much, much longer due to the fact that he didn't know Bridget's image nearly as much as he knew his, the muggleborn witch found herself a clone too. Only her clone was sitting on the floor and licking its wrist.

By then, it was nearing five. Soon, the masochist students were going to start waking up for a jog or something. Scorpius hated leaving such an undignified version of himself behind but both he and Bridget had agreed that at their level, it was the best they could hope for. As Scorpius was a target for the Duo anyway, most people were likely to assume that the two first years were under the influence of a mischievous potion. James and Fred wouldn't be fooled of course, but the two were probably not going to do anything to remedy to such a hilarious situation.

Besides, they were only going to be gone for a few hours. With everything going according to plan, the House siblings were supposed to return before lunch. It would be at least a week before anyone even considered the possibility that a first year had transfigured pets into students. They weren't supposed to learn those kind of spells until fourth year at least and other than Rose Weasley, no one read textbooks for fun.

Scorpius and Bridget left their common room after they both cast a Disillusionment charm on themselves. It wasn't perfect; anyone focusing just a bit on where they were could see the outline of their shape, but neither of them could do any better. Bridget only had had Saturday to master it and despite magic being a bit more instinctual to him, Scorpius had had to cram two other spells beyond their grade. So it was with no great shame that the two admitted their Disillusionment charms were shoddy at best.

It was a good thing the portraits were still. They really didn't need to worry about the Fat Lady ratting them out on top of everything else.

They ran across corridors, following the path they had selected previously. Hogwarts was extremely calm at that time of day. It was still dark out and only the light was that of the moon passing through the window. The only noise were their hasty footsteps.

"Mrs. Filch is going to hear us!" Bridget hissed.

"Or me. "

The two students froze in their tracks as a very familiar voice sounded behind them.

"Peeves," Scorpius groaned, "we forgot about Peeves."

"Is that Disillusionment charm I see?" Peeves taunted, "naughty students out of bed!" He sang loudly, "naughty students out of bed! Are Jamesie and Freddie plotting something again?"

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," Bridget whispered, levitating a torch in the air behind the Poltergeist.

Peeves turned around, looking at the floating object in curiosity. The torch danced around him for a while, bouncing up and down and swirling as if they were partners in a Wizard waltz. Until, suddenly, the torch dropped to the floor, the enchantment broken.

Surprised, Peeves turned around to see the two students had vanished.

Outside, standing on the window ledge, Scorpius was mentally cursing his House sister. They barely had enough space for their feet and every gust threatened to make them fall. It was called the Gryffindor _tower_ for a reason. They couldn't head back in either, not with Peeves roaming the corridors.

"What do we do _now_?" Scorpius hissed, narrowing his eyes at a very sheepish Bridget.

"Er… Follow the initial plan?" She suggested, "We were planning on jumping out a window anyway."

"Not from this high!" Scorpius reminded her, "You do realise that if I mess up it's not a broken ankle we're facing but death?"

"Good thing you won't mess up?" Bridget tried.

Scorpius took a deep breath. His eyes flickered downwards for a split second but the boy immediately snapped his head back straight. They were much too high, four floors above their original escape plan. Beneath them was plain lawn devoid of anything that could cushion their fall. The young Malfoy could easily picture two bodies on the green grass, necks snapped and pools of blood under them. If he had known what being a Gryffindor entailed, Scorpius would have settled for Hufflepuff. Screw trying play hero.

But there was no going back, not even with his heart thumping so loudly, his breath quickening with every second and his knees shaking like they were hit by a stuttering charm. He could feel Bridget being extremely tense next to him too. She was putting on a brave front but her hand was clenching Scorpius's quite painfully.

Then, a whisper of wind caressed Scorpius, wrapping itself around him briefly before flying away again. Scorpius looked up to see the stars watching over them, twinkling in the night. Far in the horizon the black sky was turning purple. He felt a warm rush spread throughout his body from his wand, as if it was reminding him of its presence.

 _Trust me_ , it seemed to say.

"Hold on to me," Scorpius finally told Bridget, "whatever you do, don't let go."

Bridget nodded weakly.

And then they jumped.

Scorpius didn't openly scream like Bridget did, but his mind did echo the thought. Only, Scorpius didn't have the privilege of panicking, not when their lives rested on his shoulders. Air was rushing past his face and he felt the bottom of his stomach twist as the ground was coming towards them faster and faster.

But he still had his wand.

" _ARRESTO MOMENTUM!_ " He yelled instances before they gorily hit the ground.

Time stopped and the two students briefly hovered in the air, blinking at each other, before dropping to the ground unceremoniously with a soft _thud!_

"Let's not do that again," Bridget suggested weakly, obviously still shaken from the fall.

"Agreed," Scorpius groaned with his face still in the grass.

They took their time to stand up, trying to calm down their unsettled limbs. They didn't even have a bruise but both were very conscious of how stupid their spur of the moment improvisation had been.

They were at the base of Hogwarts castle, not very far from the Black Lake. Everywhere around them was completely empty, not a soul in sight. Perhaps it was because of how early it was - it certainly felt like the most reasonable explanation - but Scorpius had the feeling the surroundings were going to be just as empty in the middle of the day. The Forest far ahead was silent, the Lake didn't have a single ripple.

The phrase 'the calm before the storm' came to mind.

It wasn't natural for life to be so repressed in the area. Behind him, Hogwarts felt ready to blow from the difference in magical concentration inside and outside.

"Come on," Bridget urged, heading towards the Forest.

With their shabby charms, the cover brought by the trees was welcome. Of course, they had read all about why exactly the Forest was forbidden but the trip to Hogsmeade through the dangerous jungle was only a short one, the rest being on an open road. Within less than ten minutes they would reach the end of the trees and they always remained at its edge.

Besides, from what Scorpius could see as the sun rose in the horizon, the Forest was just as empty as it felt. The boy couldn't even spot a single insect or a pixie. It was like the whole population of the Forest had run out, leaving behind a graveyard of a home.

They skipped over roots and navigated around trees in silence, Scorpius lost in thought and Bridget too afraid to make a single noise. It was a while before Bridget broke the silence.

"Are you sure that's the way?" She asked, "I'm pretty sure we're heading deeper in the forest."

Scorpius paused. Bridget was right, he wasn't going where he was supposed to at all. He knew that, but he still felt compelled to walk further in. There was something pulling him in, something within his reach that he could touch if he just went a bit further-

"Sorry," he apologised, snapping out of his thought, "I hadn't noticed."

Pushing the strange feeling aside, Scorpius stirred himself towards the right direction.

In the end, they made it to Hogsmeade with surprising little difficulty if one didn't count death defying jumps and being suspiciously hypnotised by the forest. By then, it was already seven thirty and the day had fully woken up.

Shopkeepers were already opening their shops and witches and wizards started filing into the beautiful permanently snowy town. It was a cute town really, very small and cozy despite the weather. The people knew each other well and often stopped in their tracks to greet friends like family and they didn't think twice before helping a fellow villager carry something or charm their house clean. It was only early in the morning but the chatter was eager and abundant and laughter wasn't in lack.

But Scorpius felt sick. It was that same feeling that plagued Hogwarts, that feeling of imprisonment, of claustrophobia.

"Well," Bridget smiled, oblivious to it, "we made it. We could walk around for a bit to pass time."

They did have two hours and half in front of them due to the fact the both of them had agreed to leaving the common the room before anyone woke up. It was one thing to go unnoticed in a crowd, but with only one or two people in a room, as two shady silhouettes, they would have been bound to be noticed. It was a testament of how bad their Disillusionment charms were that they could actually see each other's expressions with little difficulty.

And so Scorpius and Bridget did just that. They walked in the town unseen, commenting on the various shops they saw. Scorpius explained a few sweets to her, as she was mostly unfamiliar with wizard merchandise, and in return, Bridget shared a few anecdotes of her life among muggles. It was actually genuinely nice to be away from Hogwarts, where a lot of students still felt like throwing Scorpius in a nest of Acromantulas.

In fact, time passed so quickly as they joked around that they nearly missed Victoire and Artemis's meeting at the Three Broomsticks. Luckily, their prior exploring enabled them to find the establishment fairly quickly.

The Three Broomsticks were packed with people. A lot of them were retired witches and wizards just gossiping their Sunday morning away, others were just there eating a late breakfast or delivering crates of fire whiskey and chatting with the barman while they were there… It was hard to walk around and even more so under a Disillusionment charm. They bumped into quite a few people as they snuck in, receiving more than one elbow to the face each. It was a miracle no one realised two invisible figures were among them, with the amount of unwarranted apologies people received from others who believed they had accidentally hit them.

They were in and at that point, it was all that mattered.

Victoire and Artemis were already inside, sitting at the counter with a butterbeer and warm wheetwine. The Head Girl kept her narrowed eyes on the professor while the latter just sat there uncomfortable. Scorpius and Bridget managed to shuffle close enough to hear their conversation, even if they had to crouch under a table to avoid being seen or being bumped in again.

"So?" She was prodding angrily.

"Look," the professor sighed, "how about we make a deal? I really need you to turn a blind eye to all this for just one more year and next year, once you've graduated, I'll tell you everything."

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Victiore growled, "and stop with that pretence diplomatic crap. Don't think I didn't notice that fake, innocent tone of yours. I want the full story. _Now_."

"I can't tell you," the professor maintained with finality.

"Then I guess I should tell my fellow students about the obscure character we have as a Transfig teacher," Victoire huffed, standing up and getting ready to leave.

But professor Artemis grabbed her wrist before she could take three steps away from him.

"Let. Me. Go." She ordered threateningly, her eyes flashing with suppressed anger.

"Fine!" Professor Artemis conceded reluctantly, "I'll tell you, just - not here. Not where anyone can hear."

Victoire considered the option and finally relaxed a bit.

"Fine," she said, "The old stairs leading to the abandoned inn should be empty. I'll cast a Silencing charm on the door."

"Good enough for me," the professor accepted.

The two disappeared behind an old creaking door at the back of the shop. The Three Broomsticks originally had inn upstairs but an infestation of boggarts had left it very unpopular. Now, the abandoned inn opened only on Halloween and was mostly left alone the rest of the year. From what rumours said, a few couples used the stairs for snogging sessions but with the number of people crowding the inn, no one bothered with noticing the two.

Scorpius and Bridget tried listening at the door but Victoire Weasley was not Head Girl for nothing. Her Silencing charm was impenetrable.

"Should we just wait outside?" Bridget asked impatiently.

"I don't think we have a choice," Scorpius sighed.

However, as soon as he had spoken the words, the door opened again.

Professor Artemis stepped out, looking around suspiciously, as if making sure no one was looking at him. Bridget and Scorpius, who were much too close for comfort, stiffened and held their breaths. Bridget could literally touch the man's arm simply by raising hers and Scorpius had never seen the man's face from so close. He could even notice the tiny black dots on his chin where a beard could grow, the pale birth mark on his neck, the faint sun-like wrinkles next to his eyes…

The man's eyes fell straight on them, his black eyebrows knitting themselves together. The cheer he showed in class was no where to be seen, replaced by vigorous vigilance and eyes steeled by purpose.

A shiver ran through Scorpius's body.

"Edgar!"

The professor turned towards the voice that had called him out. Three other professors had entered the inn, much to Scorpius and Bridget's dread. Longbottom, Patil and Blishwick were all shedding their winter cloaks and settling down on a nearby table.

"Care to join us?" Patil suggested.

"No," Artemis smiled apologetically, "I really should head back. I need to mark a batch of OWL level essays."

"Ouch," Longbottom winced, "good luck then."

Professor Artemis navigated in the crowd and finally made it out, leaving the Three Broomsticks, _alone_. Victoire was nowhere to be seen.

"Don't move," Scorpius told Bridget, "they'll see the air shimmering and know we're there."

"I'm telling you," Patil was saying with a grin, "he's definitely one."

"You can't assume so early, Padma," Blishwick contradicted her, looking a bit cross.

"But you heard what Slughorn said!" Patil argued, "And I know you're going to tell me that he's senile but Rose Weasley came to me after, you know, and It's all true. Tell her you think so too, Nev. You've been trying to prove it as well."

Longbottom rolled his eyes, "I admit he's… definitely special," he said, "but I don't know if I would go that far. Though…"

Blishwick raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"I was in McGonagall's office when he explained what happened on the train," Longbottom told his colleagues, taking a sip from his drink, "His thought process leading to accidentally hurting James was quite peculiar."

Scorpius's eyes widened. The teachers were gossiping about him! Bridget glanced at him with a suppressed smile, having evidently come to the same conclusion.

"Or he could have just been familiar with offensive magic," Blishwick countered, "The Malfoys don't let their children start Hogwarts without teaching them enough to give them an advantage. They want you to think that he's one - they always want everyone to think the best of them. Trust me, come fourth year, he'll have fallen behind because of his arrogance."

"That's a bit harsh," Longbottom frowned.

"He was the first to manage the Levitation charm," Patil said defensively, "Even Hermione's daughter didn't do it as well as him. I know you have some kind of grudge against-"

"Some kind of grudge?" Blishwick repeated, glaring at her friends dangerously, "they _killed_ my sister! I've seen the kind of people the Malfoys are and I think I can say for sure that I know them better than anyone else. That boy isn't any different - you've heard the rumours about his attitude towards muggleborns too."

"Bridget, the muggleborn he insulted, is in my house," Longbottom said, "and from what I saw yesterday, she seemed to have forgiven him. I think those rumours may only be a misunderstanding."

Scorpius felt oddly happy that his Head of House and Charms professor were defending him against Blishwick, but his happiness was short lived. Blishwick was right; she had spent way more time with the Malfoys than her friends. She actually knew them on a personal level and they had betrayed her in the worst way possible.

"He's _eleven_ ," Patil insisted.

"And his father was a downright arse at that age," Blishwick finished, standing up, "Now, if you're going to continue talking about _him_ , I have better things to do."

Following her words, Blishwick snatched her purse from the back of her seat and stormed out of the pub, her robes swishing right behind her. Longbottom and Patil shared a look, the former looking a tad miffed and the latter a tad guilty.

"Too soon?" Patil asked, retracting her head sheepishly into her neck.

"What were you playing at, Padma?" Longbottom hissed, "You know how she feels about Malfoy!"

"If I'm right and he _is_ one, Nev," Patil told him suddenly looking sombrely serious, "then he'll need people at his side. He'll need people who can help him and guide him, people who can make sure he won't…" the teacher trailed off.

Longbottom's eyes widened, "You don't think he'll…?"

"That's how they all start, Nev," Patil reminded him, "And if our Mrs. Grumpy McGrump insists on staying unreasonable, then that's how he'll end. Say what you want but she's being childish and that kind of attitude towards an eleven year old is just cruel. We've all lost people, but we're teachers now; we have to start acting like adults. Besides… He isn't a stranger to grief either."

Scorpius's eyes darkened. He could feel Bridget almost breaking her neck with how fast she turned towards him but that wasn't a conversation the young Malfoy was ready to have any time soon.

"Padma…"

"Did you see how he looks at people, Nev?" Patil asked her friend as she too, stood up and levitated her wallet back into her bag. Her tone was strangely sad, "He didn't even fight back when everyone thought the worst of him. It's almost like… like he's given up on people."

"Did you see how he looks at the sky, Padma?" Longbottom asked her, a small smile playing on his lips, "Nearly crashed into Albus staring at the ceiling of the Great Hall on the first night," he chuckled and Scorpius blushed. He hadn't thought anyone had seen that, "He reminds me a bit of Luna, don't you think?"

"Lovegood?" Patil asked, "Right. You two were pretty close. Well in that case, I guess we just have to worry about the Wrackspurts then."

Longbottom snorted, "Luna never looked twice at those who bullied her either," he then said fondly, "don't pity the boy, Padma. He's not a pushover nor a victim; he just sees the world differently."

Patil rolled her eyes. "I did pity Lovegood at school you know," she admitted without shame.

"I reckon you pitied me too," Longbottom shrugged with a smirk, "Now come on, we have someone to find and apologise to."

Even though Patil had already been standing for a fair amount of time, Longbottom was the first out and his colleague followed him with a frustrated sigh. The two first-years waited for a few minutes before deeming it safe to move and untangling themselves from their little corner.

"What the hell do they mean 'the way I look at people'?" Scorpius pouted.

"It means you kind of look at people as if they're idiots." Bridget giggled.

"But they _are_ idiots!" Scorpius defended himself, earning a playful slap on his shoulder.

The two of them hadn't forgotten about Victoire of course. They quickly made their way towards the staircase where Artemis and Victoire had their talk and opened the door to it.

The second they did, they froze.

Victoire was sprawled on the stairs, her hair and robes nearly covering the whole of it. She looked half way unconscious, groaning in pain every time she twitched. Physically, she looked unhurt, but she definitely wasn't.

"Oh my god," Bridget exclaimed as she ran up to the older girl before Scorpius could stop her, "are you okay?"

"My head hurts," the Head Girl slurred, bringing her hand to her temples. Slowly, the Ravenlaw sat up, helped by Bridget.

"Where am I?" She asked.

"Between the abandoned inn and the Three Broomsticks," Bridget answered, checking the back of the girl's head.

"What was I doing here?"

"Meeting with professor Artemis…?"

"Professor who?"

"The Transfiguration professor," Scorpius filled in, an ominous feeling pulling at his guts.

"Oh!" Victoire smiled, "The new professor, of course! It must have been about my last essay - nasty piece of work. Wait -" she frowned, "I don't take Transfig. Or do I?"

"Are…" Bridget stammered, "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry, invisible person," she reassured, "it's just a bad headache."

 _The Memory Charm is especially dangerous when it goes out of control. Even done correctly it can cause severe disorientation and headaches._

Oh… _Oh_.


End file.
